“I feel like this is my wedding day and you’re about to walk me down the aisle.”
“Good. That’s a very good perspective. I don’t want you to go in completely cold, so come here over my lap and I’ll give you a warm up spanking.”
Having not been touched since her day with Rikter, she was ready for some attention. All the bruises from that night and day had faded and her skin was pristine pale again.
The chair he was in was deep seated and armless. His feet flat on the floor made for a wide plane of thigh for her to bend over.
“Hands at your back.”
She was a bit awkward at first, with nothing to hold onto or brace against. His hand gripping around her wrists made her heart jump. Tight grip to hold her in place while his other hand pulled up her nightgown. Large hand that cupped and gripped her buttocks a moment before beginning the spanks. He did not start with an easy warm up, but went right to hard spanks that had her yelping at once.
“You have a fantastic ass,” he said during a rubbing pause. “You can expect numerous spankings every time you’re in the Manor.”
“Oh, goodie,” she giggled, hearing the wall clock ring the hour.
“They’ll like your sass too so long as you don’t go too far.”
Any response was cut off by a round of harder spanks. Eyes closed tight, colors bursting sparkles behind her lids, and she heard the clock chime the next quarter of the hour.
Another pause, her ass burning deep and half numb. He put her on her knees between his thighs, let her rest her head on his thigh a moment.
“I cannot bid on you,” he said. “I will be presenting you. I will play with you while they watch, while they bid to have you. I will give you intense pains. I will make you scream and cum. You wanted to be a sex slave with no ability to consent. You have gotten what you want. Don’t squander it.”
“When can you have me, Master?” she asked, smiling up at him.
“Every day after today. Or as soon as you are recovered from whatever the winner will do to you tonight. Could be a few days.”
“We’ll see,” she flirted at him. “I can take a lot.”
“Yes, you can. But you’ve never been whipped and beaten like you will be here, Pax. There’s no Dungeon Monitor to tell members they cannot do something. Only the House Master or I can stop a member. Most of the time we don’t care who dies.”
“Most of the time. Can I hope I am different?”
“You are different,” he said. “And we have recognized it. I will do the one thing that will speak loudest for you.”
He reached into his pants pocket for a small green clip ring embossed with the number 1.
In her fingertips, looking at it while he went to his desk and back. He stood in front of her, telling her to stand tall on her knees. Cool metal slid around her neck and she lifted her hair for him. Then her face was pressed into his crotch while he closed the metal ring. She felt metal on metal and he exerted pressure. She heard and felt the pop. His hand grasped her by the bangs and pulled her face up to look at him.
“You are the property of the Culpation League. You will please us or you will die for our entertainment. Which is your choice?”
“I will please you, Master,” she said without hesitation, the weight of the ring curving with her collarbones an odd sort of comfort, like it was always supposed to have been there.
“Suck me off before I have to give you to someone else for the night.”
A good, deep suck until he told her to get her tits out and hold them up. Looking down on her smiling face, tits held up in both hands for him, he jacked himself onto her nipples.
“Paper towels are there.”
In a box like facial tissues. She plucked out one and wiped her breasts off.
“There. I may have to let someone else have you first, but you go to him with my cum on your breath and skin.”
She grinned up at him and held up the green and gold circle. “Do you want this?”
She’d been holding it the entire time. He took it from her fingers and snapped it over the ring of her collar. Others would put theirs to left and right, keeping his in the center.
“My personal request that you be kept a long time,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” she smiled, having never felt so secure in herself and a relationship.
She was no one now. A prisoner condemned to die and a slave of the lowest order, on the cusp of perfect fulfillment. He gave her one more round of spanks, this time using a small, tapered dildo to start her anus relaxing for what was to happen. That accomplished, he called the House Master in again.
“She’s ready for the isolation room.”
“Her designation, Mr. President?”
“For now she is cunt.”
“This way, cunt.”
She couldn’t complain. Cunt was nicer to her ears than prisoner.
Excerpt is from Have Your Cake, story 1 in the Culpation League series.
TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written three “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty seven fiction books.
Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2
You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828
She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.
MORE PLEASE 😛