Tied Down and Made Up

"Oh, I will, my horny bitch." Master growled. He started to unzip his jeans when the car stopped and the chauffeur called out from the front.

"Mr Baxter, we're here." I hated that man so much in that moment. Master had looked up as Anthony talked, and he burst into laughter when he saw the daggers I was glaring at the front seat.

"Don't worry my horny bitch, I'll fuck you before the night is out." He growled with a smirk, sucking on my neck where he had broken the skin. I whined softly and arched my back, my Master pushing me back down when he moved to my mouth. I could taste the salty tang of blood as he slid his tongue in my mouth and I could barely contain myself as I kissed back fervently.

I had wanted people before, lusted over their bodies as I masturbated; but this, this was on a new level. It was a primal need, a need to please him, to submit to his desires, to be /his/. In a way I could never explain; it felt so right to be pinned down, and I needed him to take me; I needed to be his and to be used roughly by my Master. And I sure hoped 'here' was pretty damn important because he had stopped and was tucking that hard cock back in his trousers. I curled up and looked up at him, my big brown eyes wide, pouting softly at him.

"Please sir..." I whined softly, begging with my entire body for his cock. He stared at me, frozen; his resolve was wavering. "I need your cock sir," I wanted to grab him and start touching him through his pants, but instead I slowly crawled on top of him, gently pressing our bodies together, breathing out a breathy moan as our cocks brushed. I wrapped my body around his, pleasing feathery light kisses along his neck, sending a shiver along his body. He grabbed me roughly, his nails digging gently into my flesh, moaning slightly as he whispered in my ear.

"Well, look at what we have here. At least you know your place and are begging, but when I say no bitch," His tone turned unmistakably dark and I quivered in apprehension; I was pretty sure I was about to be punished. "That means no." He growled at me, grabbing a fistful of my hair.

"Please sir!" I cried out, my eyes watering as he pulled on my hair so I looked at him. "I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again sir!" I begged, quivering.

"You bet it won't, bitch!" He yanked me down across his knees and smacked my ass, /hard/. I cried out and he let out a cruel chuckle above me. "Count bitch." He commanded.

"One," I whispered, my voice wavering. "Sir." He struck again, on the other cheek this time, sharp needles of pain shooting through me, making me quiver on his lap. "Two sir." He stuck again, my eyes watering as I muttered "Three, sir!" Over and over he spanked me, the numbers falling from my lips until I reached fifteen. He stopped, rubbing circles on my sore, probably searing red, ass. My Master had not gone easy on me; these slaps were not like the ones from before. These were a punishment, and my ass knew it. Suddenly he pulled me from my thoughts and up by my hair, making me face him. I looked down nervously.

"Your ass hurt, bitch?" My Master asked darkly, but I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Yes sir." I muttered softly. He grabbed my chin and tilted my head up, but I still looked away.

"Look at me." I grudgingly complied. I had displeased him; I should be ashamed. I deserved that punishment. I was surprised when I looked into those sapphire orbs, for there was not anger in those eyes, but simply amusement. "Now, let's go inside." His smirk grew and I blushed as I whined when he grabbed my reddened ass roughly. I started to crawl over to my clothes when he released me, but then he grabbed my hair and pulled me around. I kinda liked being controlled like that, I decided.

"Wrong way." He said, his smirk twisting into a cruel smile. It then dawned on me just what exactly he was planning. I looked at him, then the door, in horror, covering my chest with my arms and drawing my knees together, shaking my head vigorously. Lights were beginning to come on around the city as people left for work, the city bright all night anyways, just not quite as much in these outer parts. I did not want to be seen.

Master frowned, shooting me a glare, and I scurried forward. I didn't want to be punished again.

"Good bitch," he said with a chuckle as he grabbed a fistful of my hair again and opened the car door. Cool winter air surged into the car and I cuddled closer to my Master's leg for warmth, my nipples hardening almost painfully. He got out of the car, pulling the hesitant me behind him. I walked with my hands between my legs, adding to the clumsiness I already had and that gained from the height my Master was holding my head, making me walked stooped over. I looked down, afraid if I looked up I would see someone looking at me. Suddenly Master stopped and I, being the clumsy oaf I am, just about fell on my face. Master laughed and pulled me through a door, a small bell tinkling above us as he opened it. I glanced up, realizing we were in a store of some sort, and froze. In front of me was a shelf full of dildos.

I sputtered in surprise and backed away, lurching when Master tugged on my hair. I was surrounded by sex toys, costumes, whips and any variety of other sexual implements. Latex, leather and the stale, suffocating scent of marijuana filled the air. It wasn't like I was scared of sex obviously, but the the bright, flamboyant packaging and thoughts like /oh, dear sheep, please don't let him decide to put me in that/ and /sweet lemon drops, I hope that's not going up my ass/ running through my head were a bit overwhelming.

"Well ain't he just a cutie!" A startlingly pale twink exclaimed as he burst around the corner. I screamed in surprise and backed into a shelf, getting tangled in a display of leashes. The two males stared and laughed at me, a third joining as the twink's boyfriend came around the corner. I glared at them, carefully beginning to release myself from the fabric web.

"Here, let me help sweetheart." The twink started to pull on one of the leashes, but I jerked my wrist away. It tightened, almost painfully, but I didn't let it show on my face.

"I can do it myself," I snapped. "I am not a child!" The boy withdrew in surprise, and I saw my Master frown. Ignoring both, I twisted lithely until I was free of the leads and stood up. I held my head high, all blush gone from my cheeks as I stalked over to beside Mr. Baxter and glared.

"Well I take it you found a bitch, Zach." The twink's boyfriend said, followed by a barking laugh. He was a large man, with short blond hair and stubble across his face. His hazel eyes sparked with amusement, and his muscular chest shook as he laughed. He looked about late twenties, but I was never very good at guessing age. His boyfriend looked like he was in his early twenties and was a few inches shorter than his counterpart. He had a lithe figure and was several shades darker. His hair was dyed a startling shade of vermilion and had a silver stud in one ear. His clothing was dark, but fashionable, not unlike my own. His partner's, on the other hand, was jeans and a tee.

"Gorgeous peepers, but sounds like you've got a bit of work on your hands!" The twink said with a smirk.

"Just because I am proud, doesn't mean I don't know how to submit." I snapped. All three looked at me, startled.

"That is quite a contradiction." Master said with a raised eyebrow.

"My entire existence is oxymoronic! I am a proud masochist, a willing slave, a libertarian military brat, the list goes on!" Master smirked and ruffled my hair. I let out a long suffering sigh but said nothing.

"What's a libertarian?" The twink asked, his face a little confused.

"Some one who believes in free will and thinks the government should keep their noses out of things." I supplied, annoyance tinting my words. I sighed, looking at a bit of fuzz on Master's shirt sleeve. "I apologize for snapping at you." I said with a professional air. I picked up the fuzz and studied it; it appeared to be from a old sweater, or perhaps blanket, that was beginning to bead with use. "I get embarrassed easily." I said, shrugging and tossing the fuzz away, watching it float on a slight draft a short while before looking at the twink, who now wore a ludicrously large grin. His teeth were very white, though one appeared to be chipped and he had a rather noticeable gap between his front top teeth. I wondered if he had some English lineage.

"You're adorable." He declared, as if his word was law.

"Is that so?" I asked in amusement, amusement that was modeled on the twink's boyfriend's face as well, intermingled with fondness. I blushed slightly but otherwise didn't change my facial expression. "I think awkward and socially inept might better constitute an accurate description of myself, but I have a feeling you won't be swayed otherwise." Master laughed and to my surprise wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave a sort of one-armed hug. It was at this point I remembered my lack of clothing and, blushing, moved to hide behind my Master.

"He's only known you for five minutes, Lucy, and he already knows you're a self-righteous brat!" Master exclaimed. I decided I liked his laugh; it was soft and a little rough, like his voice. The boy pouted as his boyfriend joined in the laughter.

"Lucy?" I asked, curious. He didn't look like a cross dresser, even if he was rather campy.

"Appaloosa is his real name." Master supplied with a smirk, glancing down at me. "But that's a pain to say, so we call him Luce or Lucy. His parents had a horse fetish I swear!"

"My brother is named Pinto, and my little sis is Abyssinian, but we call her Abby." Appaloosa said with a giggle.

"We've been friends since grade school–"Master started to say when Appaloosa cut him off.

"Before that he used to beat me up, the asshole!"

"And he insisted that if I found a bitch I had to show him off in all his," he looked down at my naked form. "Glory." A sardonic smirk twisted his lips as I moved to cover myself with my hands. "Besides," He added, turning to his friends. "Terrence here, the tall, blond and handsome one, runs the best adult shop in town." Master turned to me, grabbing a handful of my hair and forcing me to look up at him as he stooped slightly over me. "And you need a collar, bitch." He smiled with a sadistic gleam in his eyes and I found it harder to cover my rapidly hardening cock. He bit my neck and I couldn't help the small whimper I released as I grabbed his shirt and stared into those sapphire orbs.

"Well you sure turn him on!" Terrence exclaimed with another barking laugh. I didn't particularly like it; it was loud and sudden and startled me. Then I realized what he meant, jerked my head down to see my dick standing at full attention. I let out a startled cry and jumped behind my Master, my face flushed severely. I poked my head out around his tall frame as he and the others laughed.

"Well sorry I like my modesty! Anyways, of course he does, he's my Master!" I growled at them.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Appaloosa asked. Little did he know what he had just triggered.

"You are not a masochist so I do not expect you to understand. There is a very powerful bond between a masochist and a sadist, or Dominant and a submissive, or a Master and their bitch. A bond which connects their bodies in an immeasurable way. When a bitch hands over control over to a Master, it is like their emotions and senses are immediately heightened, the simplistic words, whispered in an ear, can drive them to climax. A feather-light touch does so much more than a firm hand and any possessiveness or domination is a claim that their body belongs to their Master and no one else, they are their Master's to use for pleasure because that is a bitch's core desire, to please their Master, because that is a reward in of itself!" My voice had unintentionally crescendoed and I took a breath to calm myself. "A collar is akin to a wedding ring, in that it joins two or more people together. But while a ring binds their hearts, a collar binds the bodies, and isn't necessarily as permanent. Is it really a surprise that talk of such things, coming form a man who is my Master, is so erotic to me?" The three stared at me, mostly in amazement, although Master's eyes dilated so he either was thinking deeply on what I had said, or he was about ready to fuck me right there. That thought did not help my raging boner.

"Then how does the pain fit into all of that?" Appaloosa asked thoughtfully. I hesitated for a moment this time.

"...There is two ways I can answer that question really. Why do we like it or how does it turn us on, which are very different answers." I rubbed the back of my neck before looking up at Appaloosa. "For the former, often people from religious backgrounds, or other strict pasts, will have a predisposition to masochism because it feels like...like it is okay then, it's not their fault if they are tied up.

"Often, as well, people who were picked on, or forced to become fairly independent in youth will tend towards it because they need someone else to take control, either because someone always has or because they are tired of being in that position.

"Also, I think, on some level, it fells like...we deserve it." My voice quickened slightly. "Now, now that's not every case, but...sometimes," I spoke slowly and quietly, looking at the ground. "If a child starts to believe the unfavorable things that are said about them... They feel like they need to be punished..." I trailed off slightly, probably just for a moment too long before returning with a false, but believable, warmth in my voice.

"But for the second part of that, the pain is just pleasurable. Now, there's a difference between pain and harm, a fact pain fail to grasp. If you came up and punched me in the face," I said with a smirk. "I would not enjoy it, in fact, I'd as likely as not punch you back harder and break your snooty little nose." My voice was overly sweet and a large smile graced my lips, making the three chuckle. "But also self-harm, as it suggests, also isn't part of being a masochist. Those who do so are either attention seekers, or people looking for a way to distract themselves from the pain of actually living and are too cowardly–or perhaps too brave–to end their lives." My tone had gone dark and quiet again, unintentionally. "But anyways," I said, forcing the cheer in again. "The pain as simply another form of pleasure, perhaps one that feels like a more dominant force than typical pleasurable acts, hence why it appeals so much to someone like me!" I said with a laugh.

There was a moment of silence in which the triad simply stared, making me squirm a bit and causing goose pimples to break out across my freckled body.

"...you seem a bit dark." Terrance observed.

"And right now I'm a bit cold!" I said with a laugh. A mischievous glint came into Appaloosa's eyes.

"Let's get you dressed up then!" He exclaimed, grabbed my wrist and dragged me off before my Master or I could protest. Although I did hear him laughing behind me, and I had a feeling he would be enjoying what came next far more than I would.