His order turns me molten. I shift off the chair, kneeling as he requested. Since I walked into the room there’s been an electric current racing through me. My blood is hot, my core is wet, and my mind is in a place of safety. How he knew I was a slave, I don’t know. Carrick just told me an old friend of his would like to see me. He didn’t mention what I was in for before I entered the room.

Memories of Carrick and I together taunt me. What we did. Even though he wasn’t open about what this man wanted, I know Rick. I trust him with my life. I know he’d never send me to a man who would hurt me. He’s been my savior for far too long.

My mind erases all thoughts of my past when I feel Sir’s fingertips on the waistband of my panties as he slides them over my hips and down my thighs. His touch is gentle, but his filthy words incite desire straight to my core in the most deliciously dirty way. I learned early on that sex is something to be enjoyed rather than feared. I’d felt that familiar ache for the first time when I was thirteen. I remember touching myself, feeling that tingle, that jolt of need. Over the years, I kept it to myself, shy to talk to boys, that is until I turned sixteen. Until Carrick.

“Put your head down, rest it on the cushion, spread your legs wide. I want to see you. Both those pretty holes I’m about to use and fuck.” The filthy way he speaks to me sets my body and soul on fire. I’m hungry, needy for this man who talks to me like I’m nothing more than a slut. Even though he’s a stranger, it feels as if he knows me. As if when he looks at me he sees me. The real me. I’ve never loved someone. Never wanted it. All I want is for someone to know who I am deep down. To fulfill this need, this ache that I’ll never be good enough for men like this. That’s why I asked Carrick to allow me to come here, to work as his hostess until I find my feet in this dark and forbidden world I’ve fallen into. To perhaps find a Dominant worthy of giving me what I crave.

I know I’m submissive. I have always been. It was only when Carrick taught me the right way, did I find out where my missing pieces were. Those small shards of the girl I was laid at my feet, and slowly with his help and guidance, I picked them up. Now, I hold them in my hand, waiting for the man who will finally show me how to put them together. The gaping hole in my chest that many have left barren is still waiting to be filled.

When the man behind me rains down a harsh swat on my ass, I can’t stop the yelp that falls from my lips. “When I speak to you, answer me,” he grunts, but it’s not anger that laces his tone and weaves its way around my core, it’s desire.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I answer, realizing I’m being stupid allowing my thoughts to drift to more than what this is. Men like him don’t give girls like me love. They give us the pleasure we desire. They fill a need for us—the craving to be used—and then they walk away. I don’t expect love from him, but it doesn’t hurt to dream. To fantasize. Now as he swats my ass again, I revel in it. I make believe that it’s just him and me. And with each blissful spank, I smile.

“Is my sweet slut getting wet? You’re mine for tonight. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good slut,” he murmurs with reverence. “Actually, I prefer calling you sweet slut, because your cunt tastes like cherries. Delicious.”

People may wonder how I can enjoy this degradation. How humiliation can be a turn on, but it is so much more.  Deep in my soul, I find freedom and a sense of self in this punishment. He needs me to obey him by degrading me to nothing, and I ache for him to use me and make me whole with the pleasure I know he’ll bestow on me if I’m a good girl.

I know that once this scene ends, he’ll care for me. A harsh swat with his large rough hand lands on the fleshy globe, left, right, again and again until I’m a whimpering mess. “Open that pert ass for me,” he murmurs, low and gravelly, his tone rich and smoky like the finest brandy. I reach back, and obeying his command, I spread the cheeks of my ass for him. I can feel my arousal trickling down my inner thigh. “You’re wet, slut,” he remarks with pride.

“Yes, I am, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he coos.

Those two words are what every slave wants to hear. It means I’ve pleased my Sir or Dominant. I’ve given him what he needs, and now he’ll give me what I hunger for.

“Thank you, Sir. I am here to please you,” I whisper. I know there are people watching me right now. They’re probably stroking their cocks wishing it was them in here using me like a toy for their pleasure, but I’d rather have him above me than any other man.

My mind is blank for a moment, my eyes closed in anticipation. That is until I feel him nudge my entrance with the crown of his cock. The warmth of him threatens to engulf me in its heat. He’s not even an inch inside me and I’m already whimpering.

“I’m going to fuck you. This tiny cunt will take every inch of my cock. Do you understand me?” he says quietly for only me to hear. Before I have time to respond, he plunges inside me in one long stroke. His cock stretches me brutally. He’s big, thick and hard. I cry out in pained pleasure as I release myself and grip the leather of the chair I’m kneeling on. His hand swats at my ass, hard and unrelenting. He’s trying to punish me, but all I feel is pleasure.

His hips slam into me, pounding me like I’m a toy for his pleasure only. And I wish in this moment that it didn’t have to end. I realize as the bliss of him fucking me sends jolts through my veins, I want to be anything for him. With a tight grip on my hips, he continues his assault. My clit throbs with pleasure, my moans and cries are a symphony of erotic gratification.

Our world is dark. It always will be. But in that darkness, I’ve found myself. Once you let go of all the fear, the control, the stress and let someone else care for you, it’s addictive. Being a submissive, a slave, isn’t about losing yourself. It’s about finding the control you possess by relenting to someone else.

And as Sir’s thick hardness penetrates my body, he takes over my mind. I’ve been with men before, but this is something else. His vile words, the way he commands my attention is something more. His hand reaches for my clit, pinching it brutally, sending shockwaves through every inch of my body. His other hand fists my hair, tugging the long chestnut strands, and my back arches, causing him to hit that spot inside me that detonates me into a million tiny fragments of pleasure.

“Come for me, sweet slut. Drench my cock in your honeyed juices,” he commands, and my body obeys. My pussy clamps down on his shaft, pushing, pulling, needing more, and needing less. My thighs tremble as he uses me. He takes. And I allow him to.

Slowly, my body comes down from the euphoric high, and I find myself staring into those dark eyes that seem endless. An abyss of desire and hunger pin me with his gaze. I can’t help blushing, and murmur the words he needs to hear. “Thank you, Sir.”

He nods with a smile at my response. I’ve pleased him, but he’s still hard holding onto what I can only imagine means an orgasm he wants to give me another way. “Lie back, I’m going to have some fun,” he rumbles in a deep seductive tone. The man is an animal, but there’s something in his eyes that make me want to know more. Who’s behind the dominating force that is this stranger.

Once I’m settled on my back, he reaches into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out a vibrator. Small, pink, and curved.

“Open your legs wide, I want to see those slutty holes.” I obey because the fog of desire he emanates has my body trembling for more. He places the small device on my clit and drives back into my pussy. His cock thick and hard, spreading me open, hitting that tiny spot inside my body which has my toes curling. When he turns on the vibrator, it comes to life on my clit, sending me spiraling. The force of his thrusts and the tingling of the battery-operated tease is too much.

“Please, please, please,” I plead, and my begging is more of a chant. A prayer to the devil himself to let me find heaven in the hell of our dimly lit room. But he merely smirks. He thrusts, plunging deeply into me. I feel him in my soul as he owns me in that moment, and when I open my eyes to meet his, I beg him to claim me.

“Do you want to come, sweet slut?” he taunts.

I nod, biting my lip to keep from coming too soon. I know men like this; if I do, he’ll punish me. And right now, this is all that I can take from him. He turns the dial up higher, sending me into orbit. Hanging on by a thread of sanity, my nails dig into the leather of the armrests of the chair, clawing my way from the dark hole of euphoria. I’m about to snap and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.

He spits on his index and middle fingers and I know what he’s about to do. Use me fully. His free hand moves to my ass, finding the tight ring of muscle there. I tense, but he lifts a brow in question. Do you not want me? I nod. We’re speaking to each other without words.

My legs are shaking as he teases the tight hole open, dipping into me, teasing me open. “I want this hole, too.” His smile is feral as he tells me this in a voice that isn’t his own. It’s the beast inside he’s unleashed on me. Two fingers fuck my ass deeper as his cock taunts my pussy. “Come. Come hard for me.” He finally gives me the words I’ve been praying for, and I do. My body convulses as I feel liquid squirt from my pussy. “Mm, a pretty squirting cunt.” He smiles in satisfaction as I drench him in my juices. That’s when his body locks and he fills me with his hot release. I can’t stop watching as pleasure paints his features. He’s handsome beyond reason. A beautiful dark angel. And I know that he’s taking more than my pleasure, he’s taking my body and mind, and if he really wants it, I’ll give him my heart.

 

* * *

 

“This is why you were meant to leave when your daddy died.”

His vile smirk is the only thing I can see. His face is so close to mine, I can smell the beer on his breath. The bitter malt he drinks reeks, his body swaying as he grips me harshly. He’s never done more than bat me around, and I know soon, he’ll lose control and really hurt me.

I’m fifteen. My dad died only six months ago and my mother returned to the home I shared with him, along with her filth of a boyfriend. They’ve taken over the house, left me to hide in the corners just to get away from them.

“You know,” he sneers. The piece of trash my mother’s been fucking regards me with hunger in his feral glare. “I wonder if you’re as filthy as your mother is. Do you watch me fuck her at night?” He chuckles, his spittle flying from cracked lips. How my mother even thought this man was better than my father in any way is beyond me.

“Just let me go, if I don’t get to school, they’ll call her and tell her.” I notice his eyes clearing as I say that. Thankfully, he releases me. When he steps back, I can finally breathe.

“When you get home this afternoon, you’re going to show me what’s under that little skirt. And don’t be late.” His mouth curls into a sadistic smirk and his hand grips his crotch lewdly. I have to race out the house just in time to retch my cereal all over the flowerbeds that sit outside the front door. I know he’s not lying when he says that’s what he wants. He’ll make me do it. And that’s what scares me.

 

My eyes crack open and I shake off the nightmare. That wasn’t the first or last time I was forced into a corner with the sick monster my mother brought home. I shove away the rest of the images that have haunted me for far too long and bring my mind back to the present.

My body is aching when I finally get up. Memories of last night taunt me and I find myself wet and needy. He left without telling me his name. After he’d come inside me, he closed the curtains to the viewing audience, lifted me in his arms and set me on the bed. Gently, he cared for me, stroking my hair, murmured how beautiful I was and then when I finally fell asleep in his arms, he left.

Carrick walked into the room, woke me up and told me that the man said I was exceptional. When I asked more about him, my best friend only glared at me. I want to find him, to know him, but if he doesn’t come into Seven Sins again, I have no idea how I’ll accomplish that. Since Rick doesn’t want to tell me who he is or even how I can contact him.

Pushing off the bed, I take in my apartment. The large penthouse is too big for me alone, but Carrick told me he’s not happy with me living in a pokey little one bedroom shoebox, so he put down enough rent for me for the year. Twelve months of freedom until I decide if I want to move on, or stay in Chicago.

As I head into the modern kitchen, the silver appliances, and white tiles blink at me in the soft light of sunshine that’s streaming through the windows. Once the coffee machine is turned on, I head to the living room to find my phone. No messages. No emails.

I left home at sixteen. After my father died, my mother stole everything from me. I was cast out like I wasn’t even her child. It hurt, but she’d never been loving toward me. So, I ran with nothing. When I bumped into Carrick at a club, he took one look at me and told me I was perfect. I didn’t know what he meant, but he was good to me. Fed me. Clothed me. And I begged him for more. In my teenage mind, I loved him. I gave him my body, my virginity. He took it the way I begged for it, hard and rough.

And when he spanked me, I pleaded for more. Over time, he taught me the beautifully erotic world he lived in. Leather, lace, chains, and wood. Whips and chains had never been so alluring.

The phone buzzes in my hand and I almost drop it. It’s Savannah. Swiping my thumb over the screen, I smile while answering. “Hey Bunny,” I giggle, using the nickname Mason gave her.

“Yeah, laugh it up, sweet girl,” she responds and I can hear the smile in her voice. “I wanted to know if you’d want to have a girl’s night tomorrow? My friend from school is in town and she’s new to Chicago.”

“Sounds like fun, I don’t think Rick has me on to work tomorrow anyway.”

“I’ll handle Carrick, you just need to worry about a sexy ass dress,” she says with confidence. I met her when I first walked into Seven Sins three years ago. It was the first time Rick allowed me into the club. Savannah is Mason’s submissive. And Mason is a sex god if ever I saw one. He is Carrick’s partner and the two of them have broken more hearts than I can count.

“You know I’m always up for spending time with you, Sav. What’s your friend’s name?” I ask while filling my mug with hot coffee, the rich, chocolatey scent taunting my taste buds.

“Peyton, she’s gorgeous, I’m tempted to set her up with Rick,” she confesses in a whisper. I never thought of Carrick being with anyone. He’s too much of a playboy. Even after all these years, I still feel a twinge of regret that he didn’t want me. Granted, he’s amazing in bed, but for a long time I thought I was in love with him.

Nodding to myself, I realize Sav is waiting for my input. “Yeah right. You know that man can’t stick to one woman. He’s a glutton for them,” I respond, sipping the dark liquid.

“This is true,” she sighs in frustration. If there was death by sin, Carrick would be killed for gluttony. He devours women like a predator eating its prey. And the terrible thing is, they want it. “Okay, so tomorrow, seven?” Savannah’s soft voice comes from the other end of the line.

“Perfect, I’ll go shopping for a new dress,” I tell her excitedly. She laughs, knowing that when I shop, I don’t stop until I’m passed out under all the bags.

“I can’t wait to see that gorgeous body hugged in a tight spandex.” She giggles at that, and I can’t help shaking my head. There’s one thing about Savannah; she loves women as much as Carrick does, and Mason loves to share her with other submissives. I wonder how having an open relationship like that can work. Perhaps my jealousy holds me back from experiencing that, but deep down, if a man wants me, I have to be the only one he has. No sharing. It’s too humiliating to me watching my man with someone else. Now, all I need to do is find said man.

“Okay, Bunny, go please your man, I need to get ready for the day,” I tell her, padding back to the bedroom.

“Later, sweet girl,” she says, hanging up.

I make my way straight to the closet to find something presentable to wear tonight. I’m working for a few hours, so I’ll need something elegant. There are dresses overflowing my closet all courtesy of Carrick. My boss for all intents and purposes.

One day, when he does finally find a girl, she’ll be one lucky submissive. He’s got a big heart, big wallet, and a huge cock. Giggling, I shake my head and pull out the long silver gown. My mind flits back to the man from last night. As much as I try pushing him from my mind, I wonder if he’ll be there tonight. And as I get my clothes ready, I know I’m going to dress for him.