Unleashed (34 page)

My feet move on their own accord
, following the Master’s command, and I understand why Ezra let me go earlier. I didn’t think, I just reacted to the sound of the Master’s voice. I’ve never felt that before. It’s an intense and heady sensation.

I place the hood on Monica’s head without thought. I feel like a puppet strung up to that very commanding voice.

“Your turn, Mistress, place the hood over your head.” The voice sways me into compliance.

“Master Dexter, please collect your new submissive and escort her to your private room. Allow her to rest up for y
our pleasure. Promptly come back so that we may begin the next step of the initiation.”

“Yes, sir,” Dexter reverently says
. I listen to his feet whisper across the floor. He delicately caresses my hand when he passes me by.
“Come, pet. I wish you to rest up. Soon, I will mark you as my own, covering all of Katya’s artwork.” I hear the rustle of clothing as I imagine Dexter covering Monica up with her cape.

“
Thank you, Master. I’m surprised that you would even consider me.” Monica uncertainly whispers.

“Now
, there will be none of that. Remember what Katya taught you. Heed her advice. Had I known you were in need of a Master and about your proclivity for pain, I would have sought you out. I think we will complement each other nicely. You will make me very proud.” Dexter emphasizes the word
will,
as if the prospect of beating Monica until he is proud is his greatest joy. Something tells me that it is.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I go back to silently counting.
I listen to the sounds of the sadist and masochist’s footsteps until they recede. I hear and feel movement all around me. Gradually, as if one-by-one, I feel the presence of people surrounding me- many people. I close my eyes, even though I’m blinded by the hood. I use the clarity it brings me to pinpoint the amount of people surrounding me- eight.

Warm f
ingers I don’t recognize clasp my wrist and flatten my hand onto a tabletop. I tense my body to keep from struggling, even though my mind is screaming at me to flee. I breathe through the terror. They won’t hurt me, or so I hope. My wrist is strapped down to the surface, securing it. My thumb and forefinger are wrenched apart. I try not to gasp as visions of amputations sing through my head. Are they going medieval on my ass, where you lose a finger or a hand for stealing?

The zing of electric buzzing through a machine
incites me to struggle and jerk at my hand. Strong fingers pull my thumb straight out at a painful angle and I whimper in fear.

“Katya, relax, trust me,” Ezra breat
hes in my ear. A cold stinging radiates through the fleshy webbing between my thumb and index finger. The buzzing sound slows as a needle grinds into my flesh. I swear to God, if they tattoo something stupid on me, I will kill them all. I don’t remember seeing a tattoo on either Cort or Ezra, but then again, I’ve never inspected that small part of flesh on their hands.

I
slowly inhale through my nose and exhale out my mouth as they permanently mark my flesh. It doesn’t hurt. I’m just frightened of what they could possibly mark me with. Oh, no, I hope it’s not that damned word
mine.

I’m so caught up in my own thoughts that I don’t realize it’s over until I feel something soothing massaged into my skin. I chuckle
to myself when I wonder if it’s something that I had in my
hall o’ lube
lineup.

I patiently wait as my hand is released. It takes all
of my restraint not to rub the freshly inked spot on my hand. I feel movement all around me, and then I hear the table my hand was strapped to roll away on rickety casters.

Hands remove my hood
, and I anticipate the shocking, bright light of the spotlight. I’m shocked that the dungeon is pitch-black again. Hands tenderly cradle my face and I nestle into them. “Ezra,” breathes past my parted lips.

“My brave, Kitty Kat, I’m so proud of you.” Ezra’s voice is soft and stran
gely intimate for the setting. He lightly kisses my cheek and rubs his forehead against mine. “Relax, Kitty Kat, the masters are going to introduce themselves. You won’t see them because of anonymity. If they wish to be known, they will tell you who they are. I gave them permission to intimately touch you, but you are not to touch back. Behave and don’t disappoint me in front of them.” He whispers against my face, causing me to shiver. Whether the shiver is from anticipation, fear, or his breath tickling me is anyone’s guess.

“Kat, you did
damn good, girlfriend.” I instantly relax when I hear her voice. I know there are eight people here with me. I personally know five of them: Dexter, Ezra, Cortez, Syn and Queen.

“Hi-ya, girlfriend,” I say
, and you can hear the good humor in my voice.

Queen
feathers a kiss to my lips. “This will be awkward, but I have to acquaint myself to you and you to me.” She slowly caresses my shoulders, giving them a squeeze. Her touch turns into a very tender massage meant to relax. I now understand why Ezra dressed me in a catsuit that covers me from neck to wrists to ankles. When Queen’s fingers slip into the flap covering my left breast, I silently swear at Ezra for designing them into the suit. I’m sure they were necessary for this initiation.

“Relax,” Queen soothingly says.
“They won’t do anything too bad. Don’t tense up. Even though you’ve passed, this is a test as well. Just go with it. Use your mind to figure out who is touching you instead of panicking.” Queen breathes into my ear so that the other masters can’t hear. She’s so quiet that I’m not even sure that I’d heard her correctly.

Queen
kisses me again while her hand squeezes my breast. I deepen the kiss, realizing that if I don’t, I’m only delaying the inevitable. I don’t see Queen in this manner, so I clear my mind and just enjoy contact with my friend.

“I see y
ou’ve caught on, good girl.” Queen’s lips barely move against mine as she speaks. She moves away from me and my courage falls. My body involuntarily stiffens as I wait for the next master.

The moment his hand touches me
, I go boneless. I would know those fingers even in death. He pulls me into a full body embrace, completely engulfing me. I melt into his body, burying my face into the crook of his neck. Cortez Abernathy equals home. 

“I look forward to that punishment, Kitten. I may even let you use it on m
e somewhere other than my mouth,” he says in a voice gone husky with lust. I moan at the visual of dominating Cort with my strap-on.

“
Hmm… I bet you’d like that,” I breathe against the side of his throat. I tip my face up, waiting for my kiss. He sweetly captures my mouth. His sneaky fingers wiggle into the flap between my thighs. His kiss is at complete odds with the assault he performs between my legs. I nip Cort’s pouty bottom lip when he almost brings me to climax. He snickers as he pulls his fingers from my aching pussy.

A wet finger
tip slides across my bottom lip. I move my tongue to clean my lip free of my juices, but Cort beats me to the prize. “I love you, Kitten.” Cort’s voice breaks with deep emotions.

“I love you
, too,” I say, and I’m overcome by an intense need to cry. I add, “Skullfuck,” to lighten the moment.

A
petite hand wrenches my breast in a vice like grip. No preliminaries or introductions, just a hand smaller than my own bruising me. I steel my face, allowing no pained noises to leave my mouth or emotions to flash across my face. I paste a pleasant, neutral expression on my face.

“You think you’re hot shit, don’t ya, bitch? I was here first
. Natural talent and who ya know won’t pull you up the ranks. You will be at the bottom of the hierarchy. I don’t give a shit what Master says, I will not respect you until you’ve earn it.” Her voice is low and furious. I hadn’t dawned on me that she would see my need to cause pain as competition for her.

“
Syn, I’m not after your spot as a sadist,” I say with a voice laced heavily with sarcasm.

Syn’s
fingers tighten further, which I find impossible, since I thought she was using all her strength to begin with. Who is this bitch, the Bionic Woman? I still think she’s an assassin or some shit. I just don’t see her holding down a normal job. Maybe a dog catcher and all she does is growl at them and they jump into the crate.

I grit my teeth as Syn
twists her impossibly tight grip on my breast. I’m thankful that my breasts are larger than most. A smaller breast would have filled her palm, allowing for a better grip. Fuck! My breasts were already tender to begin with.

When I don’t whimper
in pain or cower in fear, Syn releases me and steps away without a word. I guess I just passed one of her tests.

A small hand deftly slides into the flap covering my
abused breast and palpitates in a soothing manner. “Thank you, sir,” I moan to my instructor.

“My pleasure, Kat,” his voice contains bare
ly leashed fury. I worry that I’m the cause and wince when he speaks. “That was not very nice of our petite sadist. Syn knows better than to abuse those who don’t need it.”  He sounds disappointed in Syn, and I instantly know Dexter was her trainer, too.

Dexter
continues to softly massage my aching breast. I close my eyes in relief. I pray that he will manipulate the other one, too. They are both so tender and sore. Dexter leans into me and kisses me, tangling his tongue with mine. His mouth tastes of red wine, and I instantly want some. He doesn’t take any liberties, just thoroughly kisses me while his hand soothes my tender, achy breast.

“You and I have a date soon. It was a pleasure to train you, Kat. And I thank you for the gift of Monica. I couldn’t have asked for a more appropriate thank you present. I wish my other trainees were so thoughtful. The only thing Cortez gave me was a black
eye.” I can hear the smile in Dexter’s deep voice.

“My nam
e’s Dalton, and we’ve never personally met. You did give me a show in the hallway a few weeks ago,” Dalton’s voice sounds like he’s sneering at me. I’m thankful that I’m fully clothed. I can picture his leer.

The metal-on-metal grating sound of the slide of a zipper has me
praying that what it contains is not meant for me. Just the sound of this man turns my stomach. This has to be the most uncomfortable experience I’ve had the pleasure to live through.

My hearing increases to bat-
like levels. I take air in through my nostrils so fast that I worry I will hyperventilate. The pounding of my blood through my veins overwhelms my hearing. I count as I breathe to slow both my heart and lungs. The tearing sound of a wrapper freaks me out, and if I hadn’t frozen in fear, I would’ve ran like hell. No… no… no.

“I’ve given Dalton
no permission for sex, Katya.” Ezra reassures me, and I realize I was murmuring
no
…
no
…
no
… over and over out loud.

Clammy fingers part the flap on my catsuit and roughly enter me. I don’t find it erotic
or arousing. If my body could, it would suck up all my moisture, leaving me dry as a desert. Dalton starts finger-fucking me with poor form. Even if I were aroused, it wouldn’t do anything for me. I pity his bad attempt. Dalton is lacking technique. I wonder if he hasn’t had much experience or his submissives just fake their enthusiasm.

“Let’s see if you can last as long as I c
an. I hope you disappoint your master,” Dalton snidely says. I want to reply that there is no contest, but I don’t want to be rude. I pray that the scene between Monica and I turned the bastard on.

I hear Dalton
moan as he strokes himself. His fingers inside me pick up speed and force as he brings himself closer to the brink. I drop my eyes and stare down where I assume the floor is. I’m thankful that we all suffer from the blindness the pitch-black dungeon offers. I understand the humiliation that a lot of submissives endure. I can’t imagine why they would want that need fulfilled- punishment perhaps?

I count in my head to d
istract and displace myself. I’m thankful for how aroused Monica made me or I would be rubbed raw from Dalton’s forceful assault. At a count of four hundred fifty-three, Dalton curses his release at the ceiling. His drawn out howl sounds rehearsed. I wonder if he stands in front of the mirror and practices his orgasm face.

“I guess you win,
” Dalton breathlessly sneers. The air displace as Dalton moves towards me. I turn my face at the very last second, and his lips land on my cheek. I sigh out in relief as he walks away.

I’m embraced in strong arms. I’
m so relieved that a few tears escape the corner of my eyes. I shake in Ezra’s arms, trying to contain the sob building. He massages my back and shoulder until I relax into him. After a few moments, I rebuild my confidence and shake my head against his chest, signaling that I’m ready to go on. Ezra steps back from me, but I can feel him hovering nearby.