It's Always the Quiet Ones Pt. 01

"Oh, don't you like being displayed open for everyone to see or touch, kitten? I think I'll let a couple of friends feel how wet you are for me and once they're done touching you all over, I'll make you cum so hard that you scream, right where everyone in this place can hear you. Everyone can see how much of my good little slutty kitten you are and how much you love being displayed."

"But I don't like it, sir! Please!"

"Liar." And I knew she was lying because I thrust two fingers inside of her hot little cunt and they glided so easily that it made me laugh. Her cry was equal parts wild arousal and humiliation, a mix so pure that it was the hottest goddamned thing I'd ever heard.

"Oh... my God." I ended up in the shower, stroking my clit in a frenzy. I closed my eyes and imagined I was blindfolded. And then I stayed naked for bed and imagined I was sitting in a room full of other Doms, with him commanding me to pet my pussy to orgasm while everyone watched. I imagined hearing them talk around me, to humiliate me more, and orgasmed so hard I had to grab my sheets and bite just to keep from screaming and disturbing another apartment.

Fortunately, I didn't see him for another few days after that. And that was definitely a good thing with my statistics class test coming up. That test specifically was one that concerned me and if I had been seeing him at nights, I would have been writing sex or reading more sex or daydreaming of more sex to write about, even while I stared at my textbook. Oh, I wouldn't have failed or anything, but as it was when I didn't see him, I got slightly depressed, from the lack of my new adrenaline addiction, and went through the statistics formulas and they stuck that way. At the end of the nights I rewarded myself by writing another story. I wrote about a girl being kidnapped for enslavement, wrote where she struggled and fought the process at first, but then gave in to the training so well that the slaver fell in love with her and ended up buying her for himself. At the end of the story, the girl lay beside her lover and he had started to encourage her to do things like read again. He asked her what book she had chosen and what part she was on and I ended the story with, "I chose the Stand and I'm at the part where Trash gets anally raped with a gun. Have you read it yet? It was in your library." And I posted it, grinning as I did.

It was a couple of days after that that I saw him again. He walked into the lobby and laughed at me. "Yes, I've read The Stand, kitten. And the Dark Tower, too. If you haven't read those, then you should because they're definitely as good and they tie into the world. They tie into all of King's worlds actually."

I grinned. "I haven't read those. I'll find them and check them out. How has your week been?"

"Boring. I had to stay at one of my hotels for longer than usual to ensure some repair work got done. I'm teaching their manager how to measure this stuff, but that's slow work at the moment. But enough about all that. Let's see what we have here." He set the box he had with him on the counter and glanced up at my cat ears with amusement. "Those are cute ears and I've enjoyed them, don't get me wrong, but they're not very fitting." He opened the box while I watched, staring down at it nervously.

"Not very fitting? But they're kitten ears!"

He grinned. "Exactly. Let's see." He ripped open some plastic and reached up to tug off my cat ears before he held up a different headband for me to see. And this one had ears too, but they were fluffy puppy ears, ones that were short enough to sit on top of my head. One ear was bent like a curious little puppy would have it. "Kittens are brats and you don't strike me as the kitten type. Puppies, on the other hand..." He fitted the cute ears to my head while I stared at him, wide eyed. I was kind of glad the fluffy black ears weren't the long kind, the ones that would go down to my shoulders. These just sat on top of my head, as if I was a German Shepherd. "Puppies are sweet and loyal and they might mess things up when they're so playful, but they're never actually brats." He laughed at it when it was on my head. "Definitely more of a puppy."

"Um. Am I supposed to call you Aramis now and prove you wrong?" I took my cat ears when he handed them back to me and he laughed.

"Ugh. You could, but Shane is better."

I grinned and touched my dog ears. They were so freaking cute too, and soft as all hell. "Thank you, sir." I was still grinning when I said it, a goofy grin. What was it he said? Puppies were loyal and sweet and playful. Not like cats.

I liked that. It made me feel good in all the right ways and it seemed like he could tell. "You're welcome, kitten." He ruffled my hair like I was a puppy and... and...

It made me shiver, while cum coated my thighs in heated arousal. Holy hell, the look in his perfect blue eyes when he did it. It was this playful affection with just the perfect amount of condescension, like I really was a pet puppy. And the way his lips quirked with amusement, as if he knew and was reading everything I felt as it crossed my face. Damn. Just... damn. "I like having my head pet." How did he do that? It wasn't even a sexual touch in any way and yet my sex opened for him. It was flooring and crazy.

"Of course you do. You're a stray puppy. You need a water and food bowl to lick from. And some treats." He was playful when he said it, his eyes alive with mischievous energy that made me want to play too.

"Ruff!" It was almost automatic to keep making him smile like that, almost something that I didn't think about at all. Besides his playfulness, he was also really damn smooth and charming, so much so that it soothed over my own terrible awkwardness.

And he made it really clear when things made him happy. He laughed at my barking, delighted. "See? Definitely not a wicked little kitten. Keep practicing being a good little puppy for me. Do you work tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir." It felt like overload, getting to say those words all the time and being encouraged to say them. It felt like a dream come true, like something I had long ago quit hoping to ever really have in any place other than fantasies.

"I'll talk to you then, after you read..." My heart thundered when he got out his phone and I watched him send me a link. "After you read that. Have fun on night shift, kitten."

"You too, sir," I said before I could think about it, staring at my tablet.

He turned while he was walking away. "Alright, I'll have fun on night shift." And, swear to God, it was only then that I slapped my palm to my forehead. My mind was on sex and once it went there, it was a one track place, but his laughter was amused and wicked while he went to the elevators. And once he was out of sight, I grabbed the tablet and pulled up my messages, finding the link he had just sent.

I went to the story under the BDSM tag and opened it, looking around myself before I started reading.

I liked to think of myself as a bit of a pet collector. I had three little pets, as it were, and all of them were unique, with personalities of their own. And they all came into my life in different ways. My fox girl was easily the most curious of the three, oftentimes too curious for her own good. My bunny, on the other hand, would always go to the toys and places she already knew, and was too timid to color outside the lines very much.

But it was my puppy girl who came into my life first and she was the most interesting, so I'll start there. Because my puppy was both timid and curious, but she was a puppy girl because she was, first and foremost, a loyal little pet. It didn't matter how timid she was, her favorite place was at my feet or in my lap. It didn't matter what toys I had or if they were new and shiny or if they were old and well known to her. She looked at them all the same way because I held them. And I had known she was a puppy from the first time I saw her say "thank you" for a gift, even though she was so shy to receive one. She was uncomfortable, but she made herself be brave to please me.

A puppy. Through and through, a puppy. I liked to picture a German Shepherd, specifically, because her eyes sparkled with intelligence and energy and, with some careful training from her Master, she was the most loyal pet I could have ever hoped for.

I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust, like my body was going to ignite from the heat I felt. Part of me wanted to scroll down to a sex part, but I couldn't do that because I was too enthralled with this erotic, and twistedly caring, build up. He wrote it in such a way that it had just the perfect amount of condescension, like his eyes had. It was just that right amount to be nurturing and dominating. He talked about how he found this little puppy as a stray, how her eyes just begged for some approval. He talked about how his puppy was so lonely and insecure and needed to be told that her fetishes were okay to have, how she needed a Master to help her indulge in those fetishes safely and legally. She needed someone to teach her and show her the ropes of his world. And he spoke of how his world was the fringe edge world. It was where people liked to find ways to press the standard boundaries and that it just so happened that he knew all about the fringe edges, knew all the ins and outs of fetish play, not just in fantasies and stories and theory, but in real life.

"See, little puppy? I told you it gets better after some training." I pet her behind her ears in the way she loved most and smiled down at her. It hadn't been a sadistic playtime with the leather covered paddle, only a light little domination session. And after it was over with, she got that look in her eyes that shy submissives got, the one that said they felt safe and controlled enough to let go of some of that propriety. And she did. She whimpered at my feet, in her collar and on my leash, looking up at me, and she wasn't in pain from my paddle. Oh, no. "Is my little puppy a naughty puppy? Does feeling Master's control make her little pussy horny and needy to be filled up?"

She was deep in subspace, floating on those intense and wonderful waves, too far in the ambience to even talk anymore. Instead, she lifted her paw gloves to her chest and whimpered, begging me with pitiful whines. She stuck her tongue out and pant in her need and I grinned with approval. She was such a good girl. "I think that means yes. And it's certainly okay for my puppy to be naughty after such good behavior. Put your face to the floor, little pet. You know how dogs fuck."

She moaned to my crass words and I laughed when she eagerly obeyed, slapping her ass when she lifted it for me. Her moans rose to cries when I pressed my cock to her entrance for her reward fuck. Because good puppies get very good rewards.

Wouldn't you agree, little puppy?

Jesus, this man was going to be the death of me. I had to stop and breathe through how horny it made me to read it, to get my shit together. God, just sitting there I already smelled like sex. The clean scent of my arousal was impossible for me to miss. But through the night, I made myself keep reading as he trained the puppy girl in the story. He taught her to fuck and suck cock, oh yes, but he taught her other things too. Things like how to snuggle up to Master and how to lap water from her dog bowl like a good girl. He dressed her in paw mittens, with tape around a fist, so she couldn't do things like open doors for herself and had to beg instead. He taught her how to wear furry ears, but also how to wear a sexy, partial leather dog hood and mask setup, one that held a dog bone gag in her mouth.

And then at the end of the story, he was trying to get her to be a little more bold because he'd noticed that she had wicked fantasies, noticed that she had a wild sex drive that just needed to be encouraged and coaxed out. She was still too skittish to play very deeply with him, although he knew she wanted to and had seen how brazen she could be when she was horny enough and in subspace and free to let go of her stressing. So it ended with him asking her a question.

"Would you play with me a little in a different environment, little puppy? Like, say, an exclusive and safe fetish club named Sulfur's? I know you're shy and it's scary, but can you be a brave puppy for me and let me show you what some of your fantasies look like? I really want to play with you. Stop reading The Stand for one night and live a little."

"Oh, my God," I whispered under my breath. No way. There was no way.

Yes, way. I looked up the club name on my tablet and, fuck me, but the place actually goddamned existed. It was real and, like he said, exclusive. The next open door night wasn't for a couple of weeks, but vetted people could apparently take others in if they took responsibility for the person they were taking. The rules were clearly laid out and clearly dead set against any form of drama.

But that's not what I paid the most attention to. I had seen all kinds of staged BDSM photos and videos online, it was true, but I found the photos tab of the website in about two minutes and pulled it up, my heart thundering with excitement. I knew there were other people like me in the world, but I hadn't ever hoped to actually find myself able to meet them. I was not assertive enough to seek them out for myself, at least not yet. It's entirely possible that my needs would have gotten to me eventually and I would have sought that world out on my own, one day. But his story and the name of that place sped the process way up.

I pulled up the photos and was lost because they were beautiful. One of them showed a Dom holding a whip coiled in his hand while a submissive knelt before him and his eyes were deliciously stern. You couldn't see her front, could only see him and that whip, the tail left down from the coils so that it stroked her shoulder. Another one showed a male sub kissing a female sub while their two masters stood over them, presumably giving them both filthy commands. There was a male sub with his mistress, a female sub with her mistress. There was a photo of a girl who could have been a sub, dom, or both and she was by herself, dripping candle wax onto her thighs, with a wicked little smile of exhilaration and excitement. The photography was an art form on that site. I couldn't stop going through the pictures. Some of them weren't of people at all. They just showed a main dungeon room and other smaller, private dungeon areas. There was a picture of a bar and even that looked threatening in the low light, with its spiky backdrop and portraits up of people behind the seating area. There was a stairway that went up to a balcony, for better views of what happened on the dungeon floor. And the equipment... God, I didn't even know there was that much variety in play setups. I recognized the basics, of course, like the Saint Andrew's Cross and the spanking bench, but there were different forms of spanking benches too.

I wanted to say no, to go back to my shy, safe little world and not go and meet people because crowds scared me and that club looked wicked. But I had to admit that I couldn't anymore. My last relationships had been awful things, filled with stress and anxiety where I wondered, all the time, whether or not the person was pleased with me. I was forced to admit that I had a demon calling to me and it didn't want to be ignored anymore. I was getting really desperate to have that major need inside of me fulfilled and it wasn't going away. What did I have to lose, really? God, I really hope I'm not setting feminism back fifty years.

I gathered my courage and sent him a social media message back for the first time, instead of writing in a story.

Yes. Yes, sir, I can be brave.

He messaged me back almost instantly. Such a good puppy you are. When do you next have a night free?

We went back and forth for a while, until we agreed on a night a week out and all the while my heart thundered in my chest, making me question my sanity. But then I went back to those pictures and I got horny all over again, turned needy with the thought of kneeling at Shane's feet so I could feel that whip tail stroke across my back in a silent threat.

————

Time for that week went super fucking strange. It both seemed to speed up and slow way down, so that when I considered the fact that I had a date to a fetish club, with a grossly rich and dangerously handsome Dom who wrote about making me his puppy, time seemed to just stop altogether. I tried to not think about it, but then all I could do was think about it, so it was the worst mental conundrum ever. I couldn't even write stories, I was so anxious and excited.

And that was the thing. Was I scared? Oh, hell yeah. But the sheer excitement? That was the part that trapped me. Maybe there was something to my fantasies. The worst case scenario was that I ended up disappointed and couldn't satisfy whatever craving I had. But the nearer it got to time to go on a sex date with him, the more it seemed like I wouldn't be totally disappointed. Because he started messaging me from that point forward, making it clear that he wasn't going to let me back out. More to the point, he started messaging me or visiting me with little commands.

And I loved them. Not just kind of loved them, but crazy loved them. The night after I agreed, he came down to me at the desk and I waved, scared and shy, but delighted to see him too. And unlike the past people I had tried to see or flirt with, he seemed to understand all of the emotions that went with my actions. Where a past relationship would have just assumed they were scaring me, he seemed to know, correctly, that I was thrilled too. And he wasn't a creepy jackass about that fact either. He teased and flirted easily. "There's my brave puppy." I couldn't help but grin back up at him and touch my ears, standing behind the desk across from him. "But since you agreed to play some, I thought that you deserved something a little extra to go with those cute ears. I believe I called you a little stray yesterday."

I laughed, forgetting to be embarrassed and afraid with the feel of so many flirtatious butterflies in my stomach. "You did say that. It seemed rather insulting too, I'll have you know, like being called an untrained mutt or something."

His eyes got a wicked glint in them. "Well, that's not so far off, really." I blushed with the implications to that and he chuckled, opening the box he had. "But since it offends you, it's easy enough to fix, fortunately."

I shuddered when he lifted a dog collar from the box. It was a cute thing, with a metal heart ring in the front and a D-ring in the back where it buckled. I whimpered at the sight of it, with horny desire, and he winked. "Since you're being brave, I guess that means you'll need this for our date night. A little play collar for a little play puppy."

He held it out for me to take and I did this time, without arguing with him on his gift. "Th-Thank you. It's so pretty."

"You're welcome. But this one comes with conditions. You're going to have to wear it when you sleep to get used to it and, just to keep you honest about it, you message me in the mornings to let me know you put it on."

Jesus. Why did my pussy clench with pure heat when he said that? Because he still wasn't being sexual at all. Oh, there was a certain understanding between us that these fetishes held hands with sex for both of us, but in that moment? Yeah, no, he was just being playful as could be. I stroked the collar, horny as all hell for him, thinking of the possibilities. "Yes, sir." It seemed almost automatic to say it and he gave me such a look of approval that more warmth lanced through my abdomen.