7. Chapter 7
Fylis
The door opens, but Mistress Jade is not there. A tall ogre in what I now recognize as staff uniforms stands before me.
“Where-”
“Mistress Jade will be here in a moment. She has asked that you kneel at the end of the bed while you wait for her.” His voice short and brusque.
Rebellion roils in my stomach. Kneel? Me?
No chance. I get ready to tell this ogre my exact thoughts on this command, but the door closes in my face.
Calm down Fylis. You signed up for this, remember?
My feet drag as I move to the end of the bed, forcing myself into position, grumbling.
I’m not going to enjoy this. I prefer to be in charge, rather than being ordered around.
Heels clicking against the tile pull me from my thoughts. Mistress Jade stops before me, her hand reaching out delicately, threading her fingers through my hair. Fuck, that feels so good. My body twitches, and she hums in approval.
“Good boy.” Her praise cuts through the noise in my head, stirring something that feels disarmingly safe. There’s a battle in my mind. Pride bristling, yet soothed by the warmth in her voice.
“Color,” she says, her tone low, confident, a quiet command laced with care. I expect the question to chip away at me, to make me feel small or stripped of something. But it doesn’t.
“Green,” I reply, steady.
“On the bed. On your back.” The words snap into place like a lock turning. My body responds before thought can catch up. I move quickly, obediently sitting back onto the edge of the bed.
A sudden smack cracks against my thigh, sharp enough to steal my breath. A bloom of pain. “That’s not what I asked,” she scolds, a soft tsk punctuating the correction.
My brain stumbles, then rights itself. I shift, scooting back until I’m lying down properly, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“Good boy.” The words ripple through me like electricity, tingling low in my stomach, blooming outwards.
She moves across the room, toward that wall. I keep my eyes on the ceiling, my thoughts on lockdown.
Trust. Mutual respect. She won’t hurt me. She won’t cross the lines we’ve drawn. And I believe her, almost.
“Yellow.” I blurt out in panic. My head sounds like a race track as my heart thumps wildly in my chest. Mistress Jade pauses and turns back towards me.
“Come here.” The words land softly, yet there’s no mistaking the authority behind them. Firm, but laced with an intimate gentleness.
I slowly peel myself from the bed and walk to her side. My body was buzzing with nerves again, making my ears twitch.
“Pick a crop.” She points at a specific section. They all resemble riding crops, but are more decorative in design. I hesitantly grab a red one, placing it in her outstretched hand.
“Color?”
I swallow a lump in my throat. “Green.”
Glancing at an upholstered bench, she commands me again. “Over the bench.”
My mind argues, but my body complies. I bend over the bench, finding a comfortable position.
“The crop can be used as punishment or pleasure.” Her velvety voice getting closer. “I want you to understand something, when you are here with me, I am in control. If I ask you to do something, you do it swiftly and as asked.” She stands over me now, her soft fingers glide down my spine.
“Yes, Mistress.” Her hand moves to my hair, gently massaging my scalp. A reward, I suspect.
“Obeying earns rewards,” she starts again.
A moan escapes my lips, and the crop comes down across my ass with an audible smack.
“Disobeying gets you punishments.” I clench my muscles, expecting another, but it doesn’t come.
“Respect. Trust. Clear Communication. Got it?” Why do I want her to spank me again?
I test the waters and don’t reply. Smack. My cock jumps at the contact.
“Yes, Mistress.” I gasp.
“Three more. I want you to count them and give me a color.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Smack. “One. Green.” My dick starts to throb.
Smack. “Two. Green.” Precum leaks from my tip. Shit. I should have masturbated before coming here.
Smack. My body twitches. I’m about to fucking cum from being spanked. Oh Gods. I close my eyes, trying to hold back.
“Fylis.” She says it with a tight edge, her breath brushing my ear like a warning dressed in silk.
“Fuck, Three. I’m-” The words dissolve into a gasp, a cry slipping free before I can stop it.
“You will not cum unless I tell you to do so.” She growls the words, leather groaning in her grasp like it knows better than to disobey.
Too late for that. We’re past the point of no return. Her voice chokes me and I feel my come spill over onto the bench, soaking my fur before it drips onto the floor.
“RED.”