Eventide (Her Father, My Master) (19 page)

“This,” he said, “is why you're wearing that collar. Can you guess what this is?”

“Glass,” I said, my voice quavering as he traced that icy dildo up my spine.

“Good girl.” I heard another rustle. “And also this,” he said casually, pressing another dildo down,

right where the cold one had been not a few moments ago. It was hot, so hot, like a burning fire on my

skin.

“Sir!” I yelped and lunged forward. In my heightened state, the combined sensations were almost too

much for me. Almost.

He laughed that low, foreboding laugh as he swirled the two toys around on my back. Shivers

crawled their way up my spine and into my brain. This was too much, it was too much sensation. But

still, I drank every last drop in. I took in everything my master gave me, in every way possible.

“I wonder,” he murmured as he dragged both of them down now, nearer and nearer my willing ass.

“Could you take both?”

I whimpered. “Yes, sir.” I knew I could.

“I wasn't planning on this, but-” He didn't finish his sentence. He onlyslowly sank that cold, cold, ice

cold thick dildo inside me, now. There was no elegant way to put it. It was like being fucked by an

icicle. My insides felt like they were burning, not freezing, and the feeling was nearly too much for me.

Then he pulled out, and sank the hot one in. I almost didn't feel it at first, the cold one had numbed me

so much. But then the hotness came roaring into every nerve in my walls. It hot, so hot, like pins and

needles inside me. I gasped and whimpered, moaned and scrabbled against the sheets. It was exquisite.

It was the most painful thing I'd experienced in... well, a few weeks.

As soon as I grew used to the hot dildo, he pulled it out, plunging the cold one in again. It felt even

colder than it had the first time, which I was certain was impossible. But I was in no position to question it.

Mr. Hendricks laughed at my writhing, my pleasurable discomfort. “Poor thing,” he murmured,

pulling his hand away from the icy glass dildo and freeing it up to pet my quivering ass. “It's about to get a lot worse.”

Now, with the cold toy still inside me, he pressing the hot one inside. In my tight asshole. I gasped

and tensed at first as that familiar feeling washed over me. It was uncomfortable, the sensations almost

embarrassing. And the heat of it felt amazing. It didn't feel as hot as it had going into my vagina, but it was still warm. And I could feel those two dildos warring for the limited space inside me, pressing on

each other, and on me.

It felt amazing.

He went slow, but I was still limber from the last time he played with me like this, so he didn't have to

go too slow. Inch by inch, that hot glass sank inside me, filling me up completely. I hadn't felt filled in this way in a long time. The heat radiated out into my body, even as the other toy cooled it. It was

impossible to describe how exquisite it felt. I wanted more, more.

As soon as that hot dildo was sunk into my ass, he began to pull the other one out, slowly. Then he

thrust it back in, filling my body with coolness once more. The cold dildo had warmed appreciably

inside me, and I no longer felt the searing pins and needles pain of it. I only delighted in its pleasure.

I gasped and moaned, clutching the bed sheets as he began to thrust with both of the toys now. The hot

dildo felt even more amazing exiting my ass than it had entering it, and the combination of the two was

almost too much for me. I could feel the pleasure rolling through my body, building and threatening to

push me over that familiar edge. It wouldn't take much more, not much at all. Euphoria was rolling

through my body in powerful waves, causing me to shiver and quake with pleasure, and my master knew I

was close. That I couldn't take much more without climaxing.

Apparently he couldn't take much more, either. It was only a question of which hole he would go for.

When I felt him remove that icy dildo once more and heard him throw it aside on the expansive bed, I had

my answer.

There was no more play now, no more tender torture. The other hot dildo was still firmly planted in

my ass, but my master wasn't toying with it anymore. He just wanted me, to extract his pleasure upon my

body.

I gasped once more as he plunged inside me. His own cock, his flesh and blood felt hotter then even

the hottest dildo. After the iciness of the cold one, he felt even more like a burning hot iron inside me. I felt the pins and needles feeling flare again and shoot up into my brain. It was like no other feeling I'd

ever experienced, and I couldn't get enough of it. I couldn't get enough of him.

He began to thrust now, with far more enthusiasm he'd had while using the dildos. I moaned, tensing

and flexing and clenching around that massive cock of his. He was bigger than either of the dildos, so

much bigger, and I could feel the difference. I could feel myself stretched wide by his mammoth of a

cock. He felt so good.

Faster and faster he thrust, now slapping my ass as he enthusiastically pounded into me. The

combined sensation of his cock slipping in and out of me, and that hot dildo buried in my ass was almost

too much, very nearly too much. It wouldn't take much more at all to push me over that edge.

“Come for me,” my master suddenly lurched downwards and grated into my ear, as he slipped a hand

around and underneath me, pressing down on my aching clit. His words pushed me over that edge almost

more than the physical sensation. I was so willing for him, that I could come on command.

And I did.

I whimpered and gasped into the sheets and pillows now as my tensed and shook with a powerful

orgasm. Waves of heady pleasure rolled thickly through my body as my cunt pulsed and clenched around

that cock. Around that dildo. I was so hot from the heat of them that I was sweating, as my body shivered

and tensed. My master's thrusting drew out that climax into seconds, then what felt like minutes.

But he wasn't done yet. Faster and faster he thrust, harder and harder, slamming his hips into my ass

as he took me in our most base position. He grunted and gripped my ass, his fingers crabbing and digging

into whiplash scars that he himself had given me. I squeezed my eyes shut and took it, I took it all.

Finally, he came with a loud bellow, slamming his hips down one last time as he unloaded his come

inside me, filling me up truly and completely. It felt amazing, even more amazing than my own orgasm. I

loved making my master come. I loved knowing I could do that.

We both hovered there at that glorious moment for a few seconds more, willing it to last even longer.

But it couldn't. He had to pull out eventually. I whimpered when he did, and clenched up tightly when he

slowly drew out that no longer hot dildo as well. One last pain for my pleasure. With that, he threw the

now dirty toy on the box top, and made to stride out of the room, confident as always.

“Clean up,” he said simply on his way out. I nodded.

It was good to be back.

But being back came with its own share of guilt. Its own share of hiding. That's why I felt so bad

accepting the car. My relationship with my master was slowly changing, turning into something else.

I'd thought I loved him, all these months, though I tried to hide it. But the more time I spent with

Derrick, the more I realized that wasn't true.

It wasn't that I loved Derrick, either. I was fairly certain that I didn't. I was still drawn to him,

though. I hadn't seen him since before Christmas, and I found that I missed him.

He was different from my master, and the more I thought about it, the more I loved those differences.

It was like tasting vanilla after months of only eating chocolate. Vanilla might seem boring, but when I

was restricted from it, it became exciting again.

So, when I snuck out the following Saturday, I went to him. He was in his apartment as always,

waiting for me.

“Krys!” he said brightly as I walked through his door. I smiled at that. Mr. Hendricks never greeted

me that way. He never even called me by my name. We played the game 24/7. But with Derrick, when

we weren't playing, we were friends. Good friends, and getting to be better friends every time we hung

out.

We didn't even do anything today. I merely went over what he'd been reading about over the break,

discussing various aspects of different types of BDSM lifestyles, and how different people did things

differently.

And then he asked me a question I hoped he never would. He noticed something that I hoped he

wouldn't, and put two and two together on his own.

“Is that a collar?” he said, pointing to the metal ring circling my neck.

I froze, but decided to answer truthfully. “Yes.”

“Does that mean you're someone's slave? Right now?”

I nodded curtly. I wasn't certain how he would take this. At that moment, I regretted not telling him. I

hadn't lied, but I knew it didn't make a difference. It was a lie by omission. I watched him as emotions

warred on his face. He looked angry, upset, and just overall unhappy.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he finally said, his voice low.

“I-it-it never came up,” I stuttered and groped for an answer, and lamely settled on that one.

“Are you having sex with him? It seems like that sort of thing that should 'come up', to me,” he said

sullenly, crossing his arms and turning away from me.

“I'm sorry. I should have told you, but it's not like we're in a relationship or anything.” He stared at

me. I glared back. “We're not.”

“But we hang out every week, we have sex, we have fun. How is this not a relationship?” he pointed

out.

I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. “Because I say so.”

“Fine. We're fuck buddies. Whatever. Who is your other master? Do you love him?” he asked

tersely.

“No one, no one you know,” I repeated. “I don't love him any more than you do. We just have an

arrangement.”

“An arrangement? How long has this been going on?”

“A year and a half,” I admitted.

“So, are you cheating on him? With me? I don't understand,” Derrick said. He was getting

increasingly agitated.

“It's not like that! He doesn't own me. He'd given me this off the leash time and I can do whatever I

want with it!” I said back defensively, but even as I spoke, I knew it wasn't true. Mr. Hendricks did own

me.

Derrick shook his head. “I don't know if I can deal with this.”

I bit my lower lip, feeling as confused as he probably did. “I'm sorry. BDSM relationships aren't –

they aren't normal. Not that they aren't healthy, but...” I trailed off. I had no idea what I was getting at.

“Yeah, I get it. I'm your piece on the side, I guess.”

“No!” I reached out a hand to hold his arm, but he yanked it away. “You're not – you're not anything,

okay? I'm training you.”

“Why do you hold everyone at arm's length?” he said. “Is what happened to you with Maddie really

that traumatic?”

“I'm not-” But I couldn't finish the sentence. I froze. He was right.

Ever since that happened, I was running away from life. I was with a man I couldn't fall in love with,

I'd put myself in a situation where I didn't have to even be around other people. I was isolated, and happy with that isolation. But how long could I sustain it? And was Maddie really the cause?

“You are, look at yourself,” he continued, oblivious to my inner conflict. “You never really connected

with anyone at the shop but me, and even with me, you push me away. You could have been friends with

Kat, with Suz, but you completely ignored them.”

With a start, I realized he was right. It wasn't that they were bitches to me, it was that I was a stone

cold bitch to them.

He was right. I was afraid of people. I was afraid of being hurt.

“What do I do?” I said quietly.

“Just be nice,” he said. “Let people in.”

“But I don't want to be hurt.”

He shrugged. “You'll get hurt. It's a part of life. But the risk is worth the reward, I think.”

“I don't know if I feel like it is.”

He did reach out to me now, patting me on the shoulder. “It's your choice. Just don't be a hermit,

okay?”

“Well, I do hang out with you,” I said.

He chuckled. “That's a good start. But I'm still mad at you for hiding this.”

I cringed. “I just – it's just – I don't know. I know I try to make myself sound experienced, but I don't

have much more experience that you with these kinds of relationships. I guess I was afraid of hurting

you.”

“It hurts me more that you would hide it from me. You're assuming I can't handle it.”

“You're right,” I conceded. “I should have told you from the start that I'm still with my other master.”

I felt another pang of guilt just then.

“Does he know?” Derrick asked.

“No.”

He looked at me sternly. “You should tell him too.”

“I know.”

“Will you?”

“I don't know.”

“Well... tell me about him.”

And I did. I told him everything we did, from the moment we met up until our last play session with

the glass dildos. Every memory I had of Mr. Hendricks was etched on my mind in sharp relief, and I

found it easy to call up those wonderful, delicious memories and convey them to Derrick.

“Wow,” he said when I finished. “He sound amazing.”