by L. C. Davis
“So, since I'm not sick for now, are you going to try your mind control thing again?”
“No. It's too risky.” He opened the door to a stairwell I hadn't taken before and led us downstairs. The door clicked as it locked behind us. The knowledge that we were trapped made me move closer to Victor. Not long ago, it would have had the opposite effect.
“What are you going to do, then?” I followed him down an extra flight, disproving the idea that we were going out to the garden again.
“If I can't into your head through compulsion, I'll have to try another method,” he replied, opening the door at the bottom of the stairs.
The sight that met us answered any questions about what that alternate method might be. I had never seen a BDSM dungeon, but the black and red room was impossible to mistake for anything else.
“You're kidding,” I said hopefully as we stepped into the huge open room. There was another floor above us, and both floors featured rounded hallways with perfectly spaced black doors.
The floor we were on had several strange metal tables and a massive rope and pulley system hung from the open ceiling above. A koi pond seemed almost out of place in the center of the room, surrounded by flowers and a small zen garden. Rows upon rows of black leather and metal equipment hung on walls around the room.
The entire place looked like a strange fusion between a boxing gym and a spa.
“Try to keep an open mind,” said Victor.
I shook my head. “N-no, I can't. Please.”
“Just relax,” he murmured, putting his hands on my shoulders. His voice was almost as calming as his touch. I briefly wondered if he was playing mind games again, but this time the relaxing effect was organic. “I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to.”
“I don't know, Victor.” I took a deep breath. “If Sebastian found out-”
“Is that your only reason?” He laughed. “There's more to the dungeon than sex, Remus. I don't have to touch you to reach the most vulnerable parts of you.” He crossed his arms and sneered. “Or is that what scares you?”
My face grew warm, so I looked away from him. “I just think it's a bad idea.”
“Do you think it's a bad idea, or is it the person still living inside your head?”
I struggled to find an answer and came up empty.
“Only one way to find out, you know.”
“I still don't know how you tying me up and putting me in a blindfold is going to help,” I muttered.
He arched an eyebrow. “Well, that gives me a place to start. The most fundamental element of any dominant-submissive relationship is trust. If I can get you to trust me, and I know you're already starting to, I can slip past your mind's defenses and begin to work on the foreign ones set up by the vampire.”
I still wasn't completely on board with the idea that a vampire had laid some crazy schematics in my mind, but at least I could think about it now without having a panic attack. Or, at least not a debilitating one.
“And this is what Sebastian would be doing if he were here?”
“No. Sebastian isn't psychically gifted,” he replied. “Having him here would help, but I'm still the only one aside from the Alpha who's capable of stepping into a human mind without the use of silver.”
“Silver?”
“Never mind. For another time. I'm going to be honest with you, Remus. Time is running out and this is our best option.”
I let out a discontented sigh but nodded. “Sounds like I don't have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Remus. Just not a good one.”
“I'm not going to be good at this,” I warned, following him towards the stairs.
“You will be,” he said. “I'll train you.”
I wasn't sure if I liked the sound of that, but the sight of Brendan coming down the stairs gave me something else to worry about. He turned his head as he passed and gave Victor a dirty look like he'd just stolen someone's beloved pet. Me he just frowned at like I was the pet.
“Ignore him,” said Victor once we came to the top of the stairs. He drew a black key from his pocket and unlocked one of the black doors.
“Is this your room?” I asked, stepping inside to look around. I was shocked by the size of it. Everything was metal. The table in the center of the room, the wall that partitioned off some hidden area, even the chair.
“One of them,” he replied, walking over to the metal table. He put his hand on top of the small, folded pile of leather. “I'll leave you while you change into these. I won't be long.”
I nodded before I changed my mind. I started to examine the clothes as he left the room. There was a sheer black tank top and a pair of leather pants not unlike the ones I had worn to the club. These had tons of metal rings and straps on them, but they were otherwise the same.
I felt partially clothed as I donned the outfit, and I had a feeling Victor was easing me into it slowly. I still felt exposed with my arms and neck exposed, but the fact that he was so intimately acquainted with my scars made modesty seem like a moot point.
With nothing else to do, I sat on the table and looked around while I waited. Everything seemed so sterile and clinical it felt like a doctor's office from hell.
I jolted when the door opened a moment later. It was not the most soothing environment.
“I see you've made yourself comfortable.”
My jaw nearly hit the floor when I saw him. His chest was completely bare, save for a leather harness that crossed in the middle. Every smooth line on his torso was on full, glorious display.
So was the jagged scar that covered the area over his heart. I felt a pang of guilt for staring. Once his eyes met mine, I knew I was caught.
“I think you're beginning to realize that wasn't just a dream.” He stepped into the room and locked the door behind him. As he stepped closer I noticed the way the sharp lines above his pelvis disappeared into the waistband of his closely fitted leather trousers.
If all doms looked like Victor, I could see the appeal.
“I-I'm sorry,” I stammered. I hoped he wouldn't take my shock as a reaction to his scar. “I didn't mean to stare.”
“It's fine. It doesn't bother me anymore.”
It used to?
He reached into a drawer and began pulling on a pair of thin black leather gloves. “I typically go over rules and expectations during the first session and get to everything else the next round, but we're on borrowed time so this is going to be fast.”
I gulped. “Rules?”
“Yes. We'll go over your boundaries, first. That's the most important. Keep in mind that the more you restrict me, the harder it will be to get inside your head, so choose carefully.”
I thought about it for a moment. “Definitely no sex.”
“Is that all?”
I hesitated.
He frowned. “This isn't going to work if you're not honest about your needs, Remus. If there is anything you can't handle, I need to know it now, not later.”
“I-I don't know, I'm willing to try almost anything if it will work. J-just please don't hit me.”
His eyes widened in surprise. He suppressed it and kept a solemn expression. “Alright. No sexual touch, no whipping, and no corporal punishment. Anything else?”
I shook my head.
“Good. Now, here are my rules. The first and most important one to remember is that when that door closes, we are no longer Victor and Remus. I am your Master and you are my pup.”
Doubt sprang up immediately, but his commanding tone gave me pause. He had taken on a completely different demeanor. I knew now that the intense, somber Victor from the dream wasn't gone, just hidden. This place released him.
As much as part of me wanted to resist, there was also part of me that knew this might be exactly what I needed.
“Pups don't speak unless their master speaks to them. When you're here, you don't walk. You crawl on all fours. When I ask you a question, the only acceptable answers are almost
always going to be 'Yes, Master' and 'No, Master.' Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
His smile was a dangerous one. “Good. I will never ask of you anything excluded in the contract, but everything else is fair game. In a bit, I'll have you sign a contract covering everything we've discussed. You have up until the moment the pen hits paper to change your mind. In each session you will submit fully to my will in both mind and body.”
“Now, as for safe words, I prefer to keep things basic for clarity. Yellow means you're reaching the limit of your tolerance for something. It's up to my discretion whether I think you can handle more. Red is to be reserved only when you can't take anymore. Whatever is happening stops immediately, whether the issue is physical or psychological. No questions asked. Understood?”
“Y-yes, Master.”
He reached into the cabinet above the sink in a relatively hidden corner of the room and pulled out a piece of paper on crisp white letterhead. The lettering was thick, black and scripted. It read, “Contract of Ownership.” He took out a pen and scrawled something in a few blank lines, then handed it to me.
“Read it over carefully and tell me if you have any questions or changes before you sign.” His eyes locked on mine. “This is the last time I'm bound to accept requests from you. After this, you're mine.” He smiled dryly. “At least in here.”
My heart thundered as I read the contract. I couldn't believe I was doing this. Everything was worded exactly as he had said. He'd even filled in my small list of exceptions in the blank spaces.
I doubted any of this would work, but I also didn't want to die becoming a werewolf. If this provided a way out and satisfied my curiosity at the same time, so be it. I would never admit it, but a sliver of my willingness was due to the knowledge that Sebastian would not be pleased, regardless of what Victor said.
The pen hovered over the signature line for a long time and I looked up at Victor for guidance. He nodded his permission and I signed, half surprised it wasn't in my own blood. He took the pen from me and signed underneath.
“The contract is now in effect,” he announced before slipping it back into his folder. I didn't feel much different. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting.
“On your knees, pup.”
I dropped immediately. I wondered briefly if my will to obey came from his strange power, but I didn't feel the overwhelming urge to agree with whatever he was saying like I had the other night. This new force was sheer intimidation, and it seemed far more powerful.
“Good boy,” he said, folding his hands behind his back as he circled me with a predatory gait. It brought back unpleasant memories of the forest.
He disappeared behind me and I turned to see him reaching for one of the supplies on the wall.
“Did I tell you to turn around?” he snapped fiercely. I swore I heard a growl layered underneath his words.
I turned to face straight forward and my heart raced. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all. Maybe Victor had compelled me into it. He certainly wasn't above using his powers to invade someone's privacy.
“That was your first mistake, pup.” He came to stand in front of me, holding a leather riding crop in one hand. He dropped the end into the palm in what felt like a menacing gesture.
I swallowed hard. So he was going to hit me.
The real question was, why was I even surprised? He was a man. They all pretended like they were different, but sooner or later they ended up being guilty of everything they had promised not to do just to get me into a vulnerable situation. At least Victor didn't drag it on.
“Don't look at me like that, pup.” His tone became gentle, but it was equally commanding. “I'm not going to hit you. I'm not so weak I need to strike you to correct your disobedience.”
I jolted when I realized he must be reading my thoughts.
He sighed. “I'm not reading your mind. I have to get past its defenses first. You're not as mysterious as you think you are.”
My cheeks grew warm. I fought the urge to make a smart comment.
“Didn't like that, did you?” He brought the end of the crop towards me and I flinched, but he only used it to tilt my chin towards him. “Maybe humiliation is the best way to punish you.”
I struggled not to look into his eyes, just in case he was lying about the mind control.
“Look at me when I speak to you, pup!”
My gaze snapped up and my spine went rigid. “Yes, Master.”
He relaxed. “Good. You're going to have to adapt quickly to the fact that in here, I'm not Victor. I'm not a friend you can smart off to. I'm the beginning and end of all authority and you will treat me with respect.”
I swallowed hard. My mouth was dry from fear or something like it. “Yes, Master.”
He pulled the riding crop away. “Would you like a drink of water, pup?”
I started to nod but caught myself. “Y-yes, Master.”
He left me, but I didn't dare move. I kept my palms pressed flat against my knees. The left one was starting to burn again, even though the pain everyone else had faded.
Victor returned a moment later carrying a large silver bowl. I stared at it in confusion until he placed it on the ground in front of me and poured a frosty looking bottle of water into it.
He had to be joking.
“Drink,” he ordered.
I stared at the cool, glistening water sloshing around in the clean bowl. I knew it hadn't actually been used as a dog bowl, and I was thirsty beyond belief, but it still seemed so degrading.
He must have sensed me contemplating rebellion, because he grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed my head down until the tip of my nose touched the water.
“I said drink.”
I cringed but he was holding my head down as he knelt in front of me. I had a feeling it was either drink or stay there staring into the water for a long time. I reminded myself that I had promised to obey his every order and signed a contract to that effect.
Drinking out of a dog bowl wasn't on my list of exclusions. Even if it was only because I hadn't thought to add it.
I began to drink from the bowl the only way that seemed possible. As I lapped at the cool, refreshing water, humiliation took a backseat to thirst. I started drinking eagerly, too desperate to care what he thought of me.
That didn't last long.
“That's enough,” he announced before I was done, pulling me back to an upright kneeling position. “Consider that your punishment for moving without permission. Now I also have to punish you for refusing a command.”
Water dripped from my lips and it was all I could do not to wipe it away.
Still holding me by the hair, he brushed the stray droplets away with his thumb. “See? I take care of my pets,” he purred. He wasn't smiling but his gray eyes gleamed with amusement as they bored into mind.
“Yes, Master,” I said through gritted teeth.
He released me and stood. “Get up.”
I obeyed and tried not to trip as he pushed me forward. Before I could even think to protest, he had me bent over the table and staring at an unsettling array of tools on what seemed to be an actual surgeon's tray.
“Stay.”
I obeyed reluctantly as I heard him moving around me. The sound of metal sliding against the table gave me a startle.
“Easy, pup.” His voice was soothing again. If obedience was what it took to get the gentle Victor I was used to, I determined to be on my best behavior.
“Alright, stand up.”
I obeyed instantly and kept my attention straight ahead. This was a crash course, but I had always been a fast learner. If I could handle organic chemistry, I could handle this.
Maybe.
He lifted me into his arms without a word. I began to realize that it was going to take increasingly more to earn his praise and avoid his ire. He was no easy teacher. The more I caught on, the more he raised his standards.
He placed me on the table and immediately grabbed m
y wrist, hoisting it up onto one of the extenders he had pulled out on either side of the table. He unceremoniously locked my wrist into the cold metal restraint before locking two more around my elbow joint and upper arm. He did the same on the other side.
I began to squirm as the weight of my lost freedom settled in.
“Hold still, pup.” It was a warning scold.
It took all my restraint to keep my legs still. When he closed three metal restraints around my leg, the complete immobility calmed the urge to move. There was nothing I could do.
“Good boy,” he said, taking a moment to admire his work. “Very good.”
With my limbs locked tightly into place, my bare torso felt vulnerable and exposed. I didn't dare complain. That was probably the whole idea.
“Comforting, isn't it?” he grinned. “You can't move. You're completely at my mercy. No choices to make, no movement to save you if I chose to cause you harm. Of course, I wouldn't do that, but the complete helplessness is freeing in a way, isn't it?”
“Y-yes, Master.”
He wasn't entirely wrong.
“Now,” he said, taking the riding crop in hand again. He caressed my face with the leather strap, all the way down the side of my neck. It took a detour across my chest, teasing each bud of flesh and bringing more color to the surface. “My, you're responsive.”
I couldn't help the anger in my gaze so I kept it locked straight ahead, just past him.
He laughed. “You stipulated no sex. I can still tease you all you want. Who knows,” he said, dragging the crop down my stomach and past my navel. The tip followed the v-shape of my Apollo's belt all the way down to the point where it vanished in my obscenely low waistband. “Eventually, you might even beg me for it.”
I tugged futilely at the restraint. The agonizingly slow touch was coming dangerously close to getting me hard, and I didn't want to give him the literal satisfaction.
“R-red,” I gasped.
He glared furiously. I'd never seen him so angry, not even in the dream after he learned about Sebastian's mark.
“Red?” he snarled. “Red is for ending a session. Red is for when you're past your breaking point. It is not for you to throw around when you're simply uncomfortable or something has annoyed you. Do you understand?”
