Cries of Penance (5 page)

Focusing my attention back on the woman, she seems to be searching for something. After a bit of rummaging she pul s on a pair of elbow-length black latex gloves. She walks toward me with a tube of lube in one hand and a butt plug shaped like a dog’s tail in the other. Okay, this game has gone far enough. I crawl in a circle, facing her, my ass not.

“Remember, you asked for this.” She smiles, lifting her brow in chal enge.

I did, I’m man enough to admit that I did, and I’m not certain why I’m suddenly having second thoughts except for the morbid mood of the room and the juxtapose of the woman, so smal , so dol -like, but so fucking sexual. She brims over with sensuality, bleeding it from her pores. As long as fucking ends up in the picture before our time together ends.

She pats the bare skin of her thighs. “Here, puppy.”

I crawl to her.

“Lift your ass, puppy.”

I lower my head and lift my ass. I’m immediately rewarded with a squirt of cold gel on my ass, but she doesn’t slide the butt plug in immediately. I feel her fingers glide over my hip. The gloves are a highly erotic sensation on my skin.

She smacks my ass. “Higher.”

I lift. Her fingers slide through the lube. A single finger penetrates me, making me moan.

“Is this what you signed on for, puppy? You wil ing to be my bitch?”

40

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

I close my eyes, reminding myself it is okay to play the game as long as I get what I want in the end. A second finger slides in. Oh God. She fucks me with her fingers.

I want to touch my aching cock so badly. It’s been weeks since I’ve fucked, masturbation does not count.

“Don’t you even think about coming, you naughty little puppy.” She smacks my ass again, then slides in the butt plug. “Wag your new tail, puppy.”

I wag, desperate to get off.

“Bark, puppy.”

“Woof.”

“That’s a horrible bark. You aren’t going to scare away anyone with that bark.

You’re supposed to be a guard dog. I think I’l take you back to the Puppy Pound.”

I growl and bark and snarl.

“That’s better.” She smiles at me, and I am not certain if she reminds me of an angel or a demon, maybe both, or maybe angels and demons are real y one and the same and only man has perverted the truth, wanting to believe there is more. She starts laughing which throws me a curve. Then she squats, pinching my cheeks between her fingers. “What is it about you?”

I wag my rubber tail, letting it smack ass cheek to ass cheek.

“You come in here, looking so dark and dangerous, mysterious. You have every sub within sight drooling over you, dying to be topped by you. And yet you are here, begging me to master you. Don’t think you are going to top me from below, mutt. If that is your game, it isn’t going to happen.”

41

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

She kisses me, fil ing my mouth with her tongue. I kiss back, I can’t help kissing her back, mouth and teeth and tongues in a desperate battle of wil s.

Sitting back on her heels, she looks at me hard before unhooking my col ar and dropping the heavy leather to the carpeted floor. “You don’t kiss like a puppy.”

Standing, she walks behind me and jerks the butt plug out none too gently.

I stay on my hands and knees, knowing I fucked up. I was supposed to be submissive. How hard can that be? I whine, lay down, and rol over. I try my best to look needy and pathetic. Submissive. Keeping my eyes lowered, I don’t even meet her gaze when she asks, “Why?”

I stare at the intricate design of the oriental rug until it blurs, trying so hard to think of something to say, knowing it wouldn’t go over very wel if I admitted that I’ve wanted to fuck her since the first moment I saw her. Final y, I whisper,

“Punish me. Please.” God. Why did I say that? There are hundreds who would wil ingly beat me to death if I turned myself in to my enemies and yet I kneel here, naked, before this slip of a woman.

I hear her footsteps, walking away from me.

No, no, no. Daring to look up, I watch her cross the room, expecting her to open the door and demand I leave, but she doesn’t. She opens a large cabinet which displays floggers, paddles, canes, and crops. “Training a new puppy is hard work, time consuming. I’m not convinced I want to make that investment in you.”

Lying on my back, hands and feet in the air, I nod and whine. She wiggles a finger, gesturing me to come to her. It is the most entrancing vision of a woman I have ever faced. God. What is it about her? I rol back onto hands and knees, 42

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

and hurriedly crawl forward. I pant, hoping she can see how happy I wil be to please her. Hurt me. Hurt me. Hurt me. She squats beside me, stroking my scalp. The sensation is delicious. I only notice too late she is also going to add smal clamps to my scrotum. The bite of pain is quick and not so delicious.

Normal y, I like pain. Like it a lot, but it seems every healed bul et wound flairs anew with pain. Four. Five. Six clamps.

I drop to my elbows, moaning. She comments, “Low pain threshold. This should be interesting,” and then she chuckles.

Low Pain threshold? You’re joking, right? I flew halfway around the world with almost a dozen bul ets in me, and didn’t pass out. That’s a pret y high tolerance if you ask me. But she doesn’t know that, does she?

She stands, then retrieves a birch cane from the cabinet. When she walks back to my side, I drop my eyes, refusing to look at her until her boots enter my field of vision.

Without warning, she strikes my ass and though I absolutely refuse to cry out my knees buckle under me. She waits, impatiently tapping her foot, as I force myself back into position and try to remember how to breathe.

The wind whistles just before the birch makes contact with my skin, and I brace for impact. Holy mother of God.

I scoot away, not enjoying being on the receiving end of this.

She steps in my way and I col ide with her boots. I look up guiltily. “You don’t real y believe you deserve to be punished, do you? Al of this is merely a bitter pil to swal ow, a means to an end. You’re only here because you want to stick your 43

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

nasty thing inside of me. You want to get off and go, maybe brag a bit about what it was like to hear Mistress Morgana cry out your name in ecstasy?”

I don’t agree or deny. I do flush, sweating pouring from me, and hope she doesn’t see it as an admission.

“I’m today’s conquest. Tomorrow there wil be someone new.”

“No, Mistress.”

“You and dozens of others in this place with the same fucking fantasy.”

Her rage rol s off of her, and I realize this is going terribly wrong.

She knees me in the ribs hard enough to make me grunt. “Is that it?”

“No, Mistress.” Unexpected emotion floods my chest, making it heavy, making it hard to breathe. I can’t remember the last time I felt anything. I lean down to lick her boots. I need to stay. Here. With her.

She jerks her foot away from my reach. “I’l tel you when I want you to do that. Licking my boots is a privilege you must earn, and you certainly haven’t gained any favors from me yet.”

I swal ow hard, not understanding the need making my body throb.

“Tel me what you need, mutt.”

“Forgiveness.” I whisper so softly, I doubt she heard me.

She taps my flaming ass with the cane, making me jerk. “You can’t take it, but I’d bet my last pair of shiny, patent leather platform boots you love dishing it out though.” Her voice is venomous as she asks, “Do you know how many cocky assholes I see every damn day?”

I shake my head, trying to not look at her guiltily.

44

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

“Too many,” she says softly, and it seems her indignation has waved a white flag. “So, you’re here seeking redemption for some crime?”

There’s no forgiveness for the things I’m guilty of.

She gril s me, “Did you cheat on a partner? Lose a bet? Trying to win a bet?”

I am ashamed of the evil I’ve done, remembering so many screams of agony.

I’m a bad man. I’ve committed atrocities far beyond the imaginations of this woman. I give her no answers to her questions.

“Can you serve me loyal y, mutt?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Are you wil ing to wade the fires of hel to earn the privilege of serving me?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She jerks the chain attached to my col ar, lifting my head, stretching out my throat. Seeing her smile wickedly, I know she is going to hurt me and enjoy doing so, because I recognize the look in her eyes as pure pleasure.

Minutes later, I am stretched out and tied, standing spread eagle. She seems exceptional y fascinated by my genital piercings and before I know it, I am wired, electricity coursing through my dick and bal s. I think she enjoys my grunts of pain, my screams, because she claps and laughs when I curse her. Morgana raises and lowers the voltage on her whim, making me go up on tiptoe even though my ankles are bound.

Lowering the voltage to a hum, she lubes me and fucks my ass with her fingers. I don’t expect the mind blowing jolt of pleasure. “Tel me you like it when I finger fuck you.”

“I like it, Mistress.” I growl, near orgasm.

45

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

The voltage goes up and I scream, any pleasure I’d felt prior gets ripped away by the agony inflicted on my dick. She is a fast little minion, untying me, changing my position.

I don’t try to escape. I asked for this.

She chains me in an impossible position, my col ar anchored at four corners of a smal cage. My arms are stretched wide and manacled. My ankles are lifted into the air and attached likewise. I am balanced in a sitting position on my ass, my tailbone the fulcrum. Am I comfortable? Not a chance. Is she enjoying my discomfort? I would have to guess yes, she is enjoying my discomfort very, very much.

The front of the cage is opened…at least for now. I am insanely uncomfortable. Spread. Stretched. She attaches wires to my nipple piercings, the ring at the base of my cock, and my tongue piercing. I momentarily wonder about how safe this can possibly be. I struggle, but the effort is wasted. She has me bound more securely than I’ve ever been bound by my enemies.

She switches on the power, and I am lit up like a Christmas tree. Voltage alternates between tongue and tit and cock, without pattern. Each shock is a distinct painful jolt.

“Do you like that, mutt? I’l just turn the voltage up a little bit higher.”

The pain makes me grunt involuntarily. She asks me questions that I try to answer even though the clip on my tongue makes it almost impossible.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Nom.”

“A boyfriend?”

46

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

“Nom.”

“Are you in any type of relationship?”

I shake my head frantical y as the voltage goes up and the pain becomes a relentless rhythm of agony. Time loses al meaning. I cannot relax and even though I know we are in a safe, sane, consensual environment, I begin to feel tortured.

And then it stops and through a haze of white hot need I watch her stride away.

She folds open the doors to a wal -mounted cabinet that at first glance is a dreary black and gray mixed-media, which depicts a cemetery scene. I’d thought it only gothic art and didn’t see past the tombstones jutting through swirling fog.

Inside there is a wide screen monitor. She turns it on and a scene from inside the club rol s, obviously footage from a security camera. She aims a remote at the wal , adjusting the frame until I realize I am watching myself. Flirting.

“You wish to top her?”

“Nom.”

The electricity on my tongue, which has been a low annoying buzz suddenly stings.

“Fuck,” I say.

“Funny. She’s a very active submissive in the club. Why else would you be flirting with her if not to get in on some of her action?”

“My job.” I slobber, forcing myself to enunciate. “Make customers feel good.”

She alters the voltage’s pattern, and I jerk as my chest and bel y spasms.

47

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

My muscles are fatigued from being stretched in the position they are in. At least that is what I tel myself when I start shaking.

She walks to me and pinches my cheeks between her fingers. “So, if I make you my puppy you’l be able to give up al other women? Al other men?”

Is she being serious? Or is this only part of today’s game? Is this what I want?

“Yes, Mistress.”

I meet her gaze and any doubt I’m feeling vanishes. I’ve never felt the way I feel now looking at anyone. I think I lost my mind at some point but in her eyes I feel I can find the keys to my salvation.

She leaves me chained, saying as she leaves the room, “Sleep while you can.”

Is she insane? My tailbone has gone numb, my body is held at an awkward, if not painful angle, and my neck is immobilized by the wide col ar.

She won’t leave me here. Like this.

Time ceases to have any meaning. My mind has split in two. Laughing maniacal y seems to be my only recourse, and I decide I real y have lost my mind.

I wake up to find her holding my bound body and kissing my face. I realize tears are streaming over my cheeks. Some part of my mind believes I am being held in the arms of an angel.

Have I been forgiven for my sins? Not a chance, but for a minute, just one, I feel relief from the weight I hold on my shoulders. Quick release snaps see me free. She removes the manacles from my wrists and ankles, removes my col ar, and tosses me a hand towel. “Clean yourself up, mutt.”

48

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

I col apse back, my shoulders on the platform, my legs dangling over the side.

My entire body is shaking as I take the cloth in hand. I’m not sure where to begin but manage to wipe my face, then my body, removing as much saliva, sweat, and tears as I can without showering. I’m not certain how I find the energy to sit up, but I do. I even manage to meet her gaze.

“Think you stil want to be my puppy?”

Hel no! This woman is more on edge than I am—dangerous—and I need to get out of this room while I have the chance. If this was a preview of her power, whatever comes next can’t be good. I’d be a lunatic to stay, wouldn’t I?