This was going to be torture.
————
I woke up in his bed the next morning with a moan and he actually had to wake me up. He was as bad as his word, putting me through orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. The last one had been so expensive that he’d had to cock gag me to muffle my shrieks while he caned candle wax off my pussy and tits, pierced my breasts through with needles again, and all while a spreader bar held me open. The spreader wouldn’t have been so bad, except he had placed it on me hours before and held me at the widest setting in his bed. After so long it hurt, a continuous discomfort that quickly went to pain. From the orgasms leading up to that? My ass was bruised and my shoulders had markings from a short stock whip while my thighs had taken the tawse. He would torture me and then deliberately hold me down for a wand vibrator while he said, “Time to cum for me, baby, so you’ll owe me more pain for the next one.” And I dreaded the orgasm build. I started to fight them for fear of what followed, but he was relentless and a sexual god and I always ended up crying out in bliss. And then instantly sobbing in terror when he grinned wolfishly.
He shook me awake a second time and I moaned again, never wanting to move from his bed. It was the black sheets and covers I had seen in his photos and my God, it was more comfy than anything I’d ever felt. Fuck me, but I was willing to even try the continuation of a relationship for the hope to one day sleep with him in that bed. His sheets were like Egyptian cotton or something I didn’t indulge myself in because I once upon a time thought it would be dumb. But laying in it with my body throbbing all over from his torture and sex spree made me seriously reconsider what had been missing from my life.
He chuckled. “I would be a very bad master if I let you continue sleeping, lovely. You have a few extra things to do this morning, little Tuesday.”
Goddamnit. He was right. I had a fucking life and bullshit. I opened my eyes to see him standing above me and he smiled in approval when I nodded up to him unwillingly. “Grr.”
He laughed and took my hand. “Come on. Shower is this way and I have clothes for you. I can spend some of the morning with you, too, and keep you company.”
No. Fucking. Way. How perfect was he? He wasn’t going to do it. No one was kind enough to do that after a sex spree when they could stay in that heaven of a bed.
He fucking did it. He drove to work with me and helped me open the store. He’d even given me a gamer shirt and jeans, which made me cringe to put on over the marks he’d left all over me. And oh God, the marks were torture through the day, a constant source of arousal.
He even hummed. In the morning. He hummed. I didn’t know what to do with him. What, he just woke up with all that sexual energy he continuously had with me? How? I mean, granted, I had the sexual part too because I was a horny fucking slut, but the energy? No, that took coffee. Which I made as soon as I was in the store.
With the coffee came my mental ability. “Master?”
He looked up from one of the tables where he looked out of place going through Magic cards. “Yes, lovely?”
“Does this mean… um, is the routine going to change? You know, how you call and tell me what to do and all that?”
He smiled. “Oh, it will, but I think you’ll enjoy the changes. Just keep telling me your schedules and following my lead. I’m sure you’ll do just fine, my little relationship phobic sub. In the meantime, how do you play this?”
I laughed, but it gave us something to do so I set across from him with some of my decks and showed him, going through the rules and how each card changed those rules. Flatline was a delight to show games to, I soon discovered, and he adored anything with strategy. It wasn’t an accident that he had beaten me at chess that one night. He was good. I let him look through all of my Magic decks, both current and past expansions, to see how they worked.
“Mine mostly suck or are beginning learners’ decks because I sell the truly rare cards from my packs. If it’s a lotus or anything else coveted, I’m not keeping it when it pays for the pack I opened multiple times over.”
He laughed. “Ah, the decision between being a gamer or a businesswoman.”
“Business wins for me,” I answered easily.
I stood up when I saw one of my regulars, glancing back at Flatline when he looked thoughtfully at the door to watch the man pause and then leave. Which didn’t shock me. He was a strange one, not that I could judge that at all. He was overly shy. Usually nice enough, always polite, but he didn’t stay around when other people were around sometimes.
He would either call or come back later, though, because for some reason he got along well enough with me.
I went and sat back across from Flatline, who studied me. “That’s who saw us that one night.”
“Him? Are you sure? Don’t answer that. Dumbest question I ever asked. Of course you’re sure. It’s just weird. I’ve never had him come in at night before. It’s too busy then and he’s too introverted.”
He smiled at my monologue, chuckling when I instantly struck doubt from him. “I’m just telling you. Be careful for me, little Tuesday. I’m becoming a bit fond of having my own personal torture toy, so if you have problems, you are still to come to me. If you end up in danger and I find out it’s some fault of your own, I’ll have to introduce you to some real punishment, baby.”
I shuddered at the thought of his punishment when he’d done everything last night as mere sadistic playtime. The thought of his wrath truly terrified me, so I softly said, “Yes, master” in the meekest voice I was capable of. And then I blinked, watching him go about my store, picking things up. “W-what are you doing?”
“I have to go soon so I’m getting what I want to buy from you.”
I watched in awe. He picked up the only copy I had of the Blackgrave and Darkgrave pack – the one I’d gotten shipped literally the day before – picked up Death of the Family, picked up an MTG starter kit. He also got the first graphic novels in the Sandman series. And I watched, shaking a little in a sudden terrible realization, a little bit of panic choking me.
He nodded. “That’s all for now, I think. What’s wrong, baby?”
“I don’t know how to…” I gestured at the register and then him and then felt really stupid because goddamnit, this was my job.
But… He chuckled and circled around the desk where no one had ever trespassed because I had made the last person who dared to try cry. And where was my assertiveness now? Where was any of me now? “Little slave heart. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me, going to the POS, his voice slow and methodically soothing. “You do it like this. Go to your transaction start.” I obeyed that mechanically, quivering a little, because what the actual fuck? At the same time my body thrummed all over from what he’d done to me the night before. “Now type in the password to start it.” Again, I obeyed. And he wrapped his hand around mine, moving it like I was his doll again to lift up the scanner. He rang the game and the books… and the cards… using my hand while I leaned into his arms. And then he pulled away to get his card and I shivered once at the absence before he held me again, clicking the manual card option. And he used my fingertip to type in the numbers, finishing it.