After a few more swings, the baby Dom turned and I noticed he was covered in sweat. He’d been at this a while from the looks of it. His eyes met mine and I instantly recognized the respect there. I got it everywhere I went. Not because of my size, either. I’d earned it. And I’d come to expect it.
“Master Zeke,” he said, grabbing a bottle of water while he clearly took a break.
Sadist Rule Three: A submissive should not wear out the Dom.
Yeah. Fine. I just made that one up.
I nodded to the sweaty baby Dom, but my eyes shifted back to the submissive. I could envision myself standing behind him with my whip, applying the stinging burn from the knotted ends that would have him jerking and twitching, his cock so hard he could hardly breathe from the need to come.
That thirty-five-tail deerskin flogger the baby Dom wielded was the equivalent of a feather as far as this particular masochist was concerned. An attentive Dominant would’ve known that.
I glanced back at the baby Dom, who was clearly out of sorts, unsure what to do to make this submissive beg.
“Hit him harder,” I said, the deep rumble of my voice causing several heads to turn my way.
“What?” The baby Dom appeared confused. “I’ve been at it for thirty minutes. He’s not in the right mindset.”
Mindset, my ass. That was a Dom’s excuse as to how he’d fucked up a scene.
“You’re not hittin’ him hard enough.” I turned my attention back to the restrained man. “He’s not a goddamn toddler. Hit him harder.”
The baby Dom clearly didn’t like that I was correcting him. Not that I gave a fuck. It was a Dominant’s responsibility to see to the needs of his submissive. This fucker was failing in every respect.
“Think you can do better?” the baby Dom taunted.
I jerked my gaze over and cocked an eyebrow. This time, his tone lacked any respect whatsoever. Normally, I would shrug it off, but there was something about this situation that didn’t sit right with me.
“I don’t think I can. I know.” The crowd parted as I moved forward. When the baby Dom held out his little toy, I chuckled. “Your five-and-dime toy’s useless.”
The baby Dom huffed, then turned to walk away.
“Uh-uh,” I snarled. “You stay and watch.” I leaned in closer to him, keeping my voice low so no one else could hear. “And don’t you ever disrespect me again. Understood?”
The baby Dom’s eyes widened, but he managed a jerky nod.
“Good.” I turned my back to him and focused my attention on the masochist.
Wanting to get a feel for the submissive’s state of mind, I walked over and pressed myself against his back, leaning down and putting my mouth close to his ear.
“Tell me what you need, pretty boy.”
The pretty boy’s head shifted only slightly. “Pain, Zeke. I need pain.”
“Do you want me to deliver it? And remember, I don’t provide aftercare. I’ll ensure you fly, but I won’t bring you down after.”
“Yes,” he said on a breathless moan. “Yes, Zeke. I want you to deliver it.”
“Tell me your safe word.”
“Red, Zeke.”
“I trust you to use it should you need it.”
He nodded and I stepped back, allowing my gaze to run the length of his naked form as I retrieved the whip I had attached to my belt.
It was time to show the pussy Dom exactly how to handle a masochist.
And it was time to show this squirrelly pretty boy exactly what it meant to submit to me.
The question was…
Could the pretty boy handle it?
Later that evening…
After spending the past couple of hours keeping an eye on things in the dungeon, I opted for a break. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy watching Ransom Bishop commandeer two wayward submissives and make them beg for mercy. The man was almost as ruthless as I was. Almost being the key word. No one was as ruthless as me.
However, I did make it a habit to observe the technique of others. While Ransom had yet to find what he was looking for, his tastes ran alongside mine. He was looking for a male who had a penchant for the darker side of kink and he didn’t waste his time with the sissies who were hoping to cuddle. I appreciated that about him.
Unfortunately, after the scene with the pretty boy earlier, I couldn’t bring myself to take another submissive tonight. For whatever reason, my needs had grown exponentially as of late and I feared I couldn’t slake my lust regardless. No sense wasting precious energy.
So, after passing off my monitor duties to one of the others, I headed to the bar, downed a couple of bottles of water, and kept my eye on the riffraff moving through the club. It didn’t surprise me that I grew bored with that quickly.
