Sold to the mafia

IsaacThis is from NôvelDrama.Org.

I cannot let her leave like this. I run my hands through my hair, pacing the hall outside the women’s restroom. I know this is a lot for her. I do. But I need her commitment so that I can start her training and help her.

I’m all in. I’m taking this completely seriously. I need her to commit.

Maybe I’m asking too much? But I don’t see how I could be. She says she wants this, and I know she needs it.

Madam Lynn walks out first, and I stop in my tracks.

“I saw what you did,” she says and I know she almost says my name, but someone walks behind us, stealing her attention and reminding her where we are. “You need to be gentle.”

I stare at her, my blood heating with anger. “She is not your concern.”

“Correction, she is not yet your concern.” She takes a step closer, lowering her voice. “Maybe if you tried a different approach?” Her eyebrows raise as though I’m missing something obvious.

“You know I don’t do subtleties,” I say beneath my breath. I know I’m fucking this up royally. But how? I have no fucking clue. I only need her to agree, and then this will all be so much easier.

“Maybe show her what it’s like first. Give her a taste, ease her into it.” Ease her into it. How the fuck am I supposed to do that?

I let her words resonate with me as the sound of the bathroom door opens and my kitten walks out with her hands clasped and her head down, a solemn look etched onto her face.

“Think about it,” Madam Lynn says quietly before walking off, leaving me with the bit of advice she’s cared to offer.

“Katia?” I close the space between us, waiting for her to look at me. When she does, my heart breaks for her.

“I’m sorry, Isaac -” I press my fingers to her lips. She instantly silences and her sad eyes widen, her breath hitching.

“No need to apologize. You have done nothing wrong. I am only displeased with myself.” I move my hand away and plant a chaste kiss on her lips and then her neck, taking her small hand in mine.

I turn her hand over and kiss her pulse. “I need you to come back with me and talk to me. I have to know what you’re thinking so I can make this right, kitten.” I keep my eyes on hers and gently rub her wrist with the pad of my thumbs in strong soothing circles.

“Yes, Master.” A smile threatens to slip across my lips, but I don’t allow it. Not until I figure out what I’m going to do with her.

As I lead her back to the room, I’m quiet. Lost in thought. I don’t want to take it slow. I don’t want to let her return to her own home and be without me in the evenings. I have needs, but more importantly, she has night terrors. I’m supposed to be her Master, and what good would I be if I allowed her to suffer through them alone?

I can’t. I only need her to realize that.

I unlock the door, ignoring the fact that my own men are standing outside the room. The door opens with a loud click as I realize something.

She can’t know that. Because she doesn’t understand what a true Master is.

She only knows what an abuser is like in the guise of a Master.

I close the door, feeling a surge of renewed strength.

“Come here, kitten,” I say as I sit easily on the edge of the bed and pat the seat next to me. She obeys obediently, placing the palms of her hands on her thighs. I’ll show her what a good Master is worth.

“You do some things so well, Katia.” I compliment her. “Like this.” I place my hand on hers. “You know how to kneel and bow, how you’re expected to sit and stand while you wait for me.” Her eyes stay on mine, but in the soft, pale blues stirs a wealth of sadness and self-consciousness. She’s waiting for the other foot to drop.

“Are you self-taught?” I ask her.

“No,” she says and her voice is weak. “I had a Master.”

“Just one?”

“He shared me, so I had many Masters.” Although she remains still and gives me her attention, her body tenses and the shine in her eyes dulls. We need to get through this, but I hate that it’s happening now. Without my collar, and with the very real chance of her leaving without a commitment to me. I can do this gently though.

“Did you enjoy being shared?”

“No,” she replies and her breathing picks up with fear. I’m quick to calm her worries.

“That pleases me. I don’t share well with others.” I give her a small smile and gently rub her neck.

Her eyes close for a moment as I rub strong soothing strokes with my thumbs down her neck and her shoulders. She’s tense, and her muscles extremely tight.

“Was it your Master who left these marks?” I ask her casually. Some M/s prefer permanent marks. But I already know that these weren’t her preference.

“Some, and the others were left by another man.” The way she says the words leaves a chill to run down my body. I already have an idea of which man she’s referring to. I’ve been investigating his whereabouts. And several others in case I can’t find him myself.

I knead her shoulders, hating that I’m bringing up these memories.

“I don’t like leaving permanent marks,” I say easily. I do want to mark her. I want to give her pain to heighten her pleasure. But not like this.

“Were these punishment or pleasure?” I ask her.

“My punishment, and their pleasure.” I stop my ministrations at her confession.

“Your Master enjoyed your punishment?” I pause for effect and continue rubbing her shoulders as I speak quietly. “I don’t know a Master that would enjoy punishment. It should be carried out with disappointment.” I plant a small kiss on her neck. “I assume this Master wasn’t very good to you?”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“I want to be good for you.”

Her eyes lift to mine with a spark of desire, breaking through the negative air surrounding the conversation.

“Were the rules he gave you like mine?” Again I hand her the piece of paper to read through them. “I can modify some if you’d like.”

She opens the paper slowly, smoothing it on her lap and reading each line carefully. Her full lips part slightly as she reads silently.

“He didn’t give me rules like this. I was just to obey him at all times.”

“And what do you think of that? So long of course that his commands are for your benefit and safety, I think that’s something that’s inherent between the Master-slave relationship.” I trail a finger over her scars as I continue, “But obviously some aspects disregarded your wellbeing, and that’s not alright.”

She nods her head slowly, clearing her throat and rustling the paper in her hands.

“It wasn’t a good relationship, no.”

“It doesn’t sound like he was a Master to me.” That gets her attention. “Violence and abuse shouldn’t be tolerated under any circumstance.” I move my hands to her arms, gently caressing her skin and kiss her neck. “Everything that we do, will be all be consensual. Every bit of training will be outlined for you with known consequences and rewards.” She remains silent, but her eyes are wide and focused on me.

“Is this the Master-slave relationship you’re looking for?” I ask her, looking deep into her pale blue eyes.

“Yes,” she answers quietly.

“I want to dominate you sexually, Katia, but in other ways, too. I want to be responsible for every aspect of your wellbeing. At first, during training, it will be difficult for you. I won’t lie. I want control, and I need honesty and trust in return.”

“I want to make you cry, kitten. I want to whip you. I want to comfort you after. I want to give you a heightened pleasure that devours your very being.” I kiss her gently on her lips and whisper into her ear. “I want to see my marks on your naked body. My intentions aren’t pure; I assure you that. But I will be a just Master. I will provide for you in ways you never dreamed.”

She stares at me for a moment, her breathing coming in ragged. My dick is so fucking hard just thinking about all the things I want to do to her.

I can’t take it any longer. I lean in, gripping the nape of her neck and crushing her lips to mine. She moans into my mouth, parting her lips and letting me take her. I push her down onto the bed; she gasps and her hands fly to my sides, gripping onto me as she kisses me back with the hunger I know she has for me. For this.

My other hand moves under her dress, my fingertips tracing the lines of her underwear. My dick digs into her hip. I want to take her how she needs to be fucked. But not yet. Not until she gives me what I need.

I break the kiss, breathing heavily. My dick is hard as fuck and I want to take her right now. But I need to know she wants what I want. I need to be sated. As much as I want her for the person she is, I have needs, too. And I need to know my own desires will be met. I open my eyes, and watch as the dim light reflects off the faint silver scars.

“I want to leave my mark on you. Not permanent, but weekly.” For the first time in a long time, I feel shame admitting my dark desires. She has yet to react to my needs. I need to know she truly wants this aspect of our presumed relationship. I want to whip her, to bring the blood to her skin and let the wave of endorphins give her a higher pleasure than she could attain otherwise. I need it for myself as well.

I want her senses overwhelmed. I want her consumed by what I can do to her.

“Yes, please.” She answers with a soft voice, her eyes half-lidded. “Master, please mark me.”

“I told you what I want, Katia. But what do you want from me? You want a Master, but what does that mean to you?”

“I want to feel complete. For me,” she breathes heavily, clasping her hands tightly together, “it means I want to have someone command me.” Her eyes look at me with vulnerability. “I want to satisfy your every need and desire and be good for you.” She brushes the hair out of her face. “I don’t know if that even makes sense,” she says as she shakes her head.

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” She flushes at my praise.

“I need you to agree to these rules. Or tell me which changes need to be made.”

The lust slowly leaves her as she lies on the bed, her eyes searching my face.

I remember Madam Lynn’s words. Give her a taste, and ease her into it. But I don’t see how it’s possible. The appeal for me is complete control in all things. I don’t know how to meet her halfway.

I close my eyes, sighing heavily. I’m failing at providing a middle ground.

“This is what you described, this is what you want. All you need to do is agree,” I tell her with complete sincerity.

“What about if we meet here?” she says, and her soft voice breaks the silence. “I agree to all of your rules, I just want our time limited to within the club for now. Until I’m ready.” She swallows thickly, her eyes darting to my face and then back down to the lush comforter on the bed.

She looks guilty and uncomfortable. I touch her neck, where my collar should go. Faint marks of the collar she wore before are still there. Scars proving how it wasn’t placed there with her consent. “I still want to collar you, but I’ll take what you’re willing to give me for now.” She looks at me with surprise. I suppose she wasn’t expecting that.

“I’ll show you what it means to be mine while we’re here. But I expect you to adhere to the rules when you’re away from me as well.”

“I will.”

“Katia, what does being a Master mean?” I ask her to gauge her understanding.

“It means you own a Slave,” she answers simply.

“Is that all it means?” I ask her.

She looks at me with curiosity.

“I want you to think about it.”

“I will, Master,” she answers with her forehead still pinched and her eyes narrowed as though she’s really thinking about it. I hope she is.

I grab the gift bag and pull out the pale blue box from within, setting it in her lap. “I want you to wear my chain until you’re ready for my collar.”

She opens the box slowly.

Her fingertips gently trace the thin gold chain. It’s cut with a diamond edge so that it sparkles in even the faintest of light.

I take the box from her hands, removing the chain and holding it up so she can turn for me. She lifts her hair over her shoulders and barely breathes as I lock it into place. I brush her soft skin with my fingers as I lay it against her collar.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Master, for such a gift.” The sight of her wearing my chain excites a dark part of me that’s difficult to tame.

“You’ll never remove this. Only to wash, and then it will be put back into place.” I have the accessory in another box in my jacket. But it will have to wait.

She answers obediently, “I promise.”