Asher struck the crop harder, out of curiosity. What kind of masochist was she? Perhaps a little of both? He kept striking until she whimpered and broke. "Please! Please, I can't anymore."
"Shh. Good girl. Yes, you can. You're doing so well for me, and you have such pretty marks now. Let me give you some more. Just keep holding your hands behind your neck. Look at how sweet you are, with your legs nice and cropped. You look like a submissive in her training."
The next strike brought a sound of such desire from her that it made him hot with pleasure. His restraint held him captive and demanded his control, ensured he held it tight as he should.
Submissive masochism. Was there anything more delightful to train? Asher added it to the list of qualities to build and condition when he had her in his dungeon.
"Master..." Jezebel breathed the word into his bed, bit his comforter, and moaned with soft, pained little cries.
And the licks had certainly passed her comfort level and gone to be little else except painful. "Oh, please. Oh, God."
"Hush." Jezebel stopped speaking, resorting to just whimpers and soft cries. Asher didn't go so very far after that, merely taking enough time to test her and her wonderful obedience, a light little play testing.
"Good girl." Asher cooed it behind her when he was satisfied. Jezebel'd earned it, and obedience was always to be rewarded. "Such a sweet girl."
Asher set the crop down and stroked down Jezebel's thighs and the backs of her knees. Her response was beautiful, perfect. Like every other sensation and emotion that would rule her and cause her such problems, this was no different.
Jezebel gave herself up to every feeling so readily and lifted to his touch as best she could. "Now, let's go over some other lessons. What's something we don't do at Sulfur's?"
Jezebel purred the sentence out while he petted her marks, pinching a few, and enjoyed the scent of her arousal. "There is no playing under the influence at Sulfur's."
Asher laughed and slapped the back of her thigh. "Good girl. Speaking of that, I'm afraid it's almost time for me to tend to Sulfur's. I will give you a few choices. Would you prefer to spend the night, go home now, or spend some time in the cage and collar and go home a little later?"
Jezebel hesitated while he pet her, one hand on her lower back and one hand smoothing his marks. "Will you be angry at me if I say cage and collar?"
"Of course not."
"Yes, Master. I'd like that, please."
Asher smiled and released her from the straps of the spreader, opening the cage so she could crawl beneath his bed.
Jezebel lifted her hair obediently for him to place the collar on her, and that time, she didn't shy away from his touch, though she was still worried.
Draw away. Pull together. Spin her in a graceful circle.
Asher went to her apartment to watch shows with her, but he also invited her to his own rooms, knowing that her life would start to intertwine with his by convenience.
And it did, quickly enough. First, it was her Netflix and Amazon accounts so they could watch things together. Then she brought over a few books to trade with him.
Jezebel always asked permission for these things, and she asked permission for other stranger moments.
One time, when they were watching a show together, she shifted beside him while he stroked her shoulder, and then shifted again.
Finally, she tugged on his shirt sleeve, and he looked down. "May I use the bathroom?"
A better person would have reacted to that with teasing shock and playful joking, would have called her ridiculous for asking.
As one might imagine, he didn't do that. It thrilled him to hear little behaviors like that from her. So he touched her nose instead and said, "Yes. It's that door. Hurry back, Pet."
And she obeyed, scurrying. When he went to her house the next evening and cuddled with her, the precedent had taken an interesting effect.
Though she had never asked permission to do that at her place, he reset the stage in the same way and curled her under his arm to hold her close.
And sure enough, he had placed enough similarities so that she tugged on his shirt and asked it again.
Little by little, pull by pull. Draw together, let her spin apart, end together.
————
Jezebel couldn't seem to stop herself from trusting him, from craving his commands. Her life felt peaceful and wonderful.
In the moments away from him, she took to quietly reading her books on philosophy and theory, books on legal argument and logic, sci-fi books, fantasy world books. And she was continually in a heightened state of arousal.
Jezebel had asked for non sexual each time, and he kept to that, but she was kind of losing her mind. Her whole body was heated all the time.
She would wake up and think of how his hands looked when he decorated her with rope, would think of the stern, cool gaze that was becoming her axis of safety.
His brow would furrow with thought and consideration when he worked, and he had this intensity that missed nothing. One night, when he had her bound spread eagle across his bed, she had the thought, He's so beautiful and godlike.
Jezebel didn't know where it came from. Maybe it was the way his pale green eyes were so distant and observant, the way they seemed to caress her tits when her chest rose with her breathing, or the way he would meet her own gaze and hold it with this faint smile.
"Good girl. Keep your eyes on me whenever you can." And she didn't know if it was that command, but she was starting to be unable to look anywhere else. It could just as well be her own growing infatuation.
And then there were the dreams. One night after he trained her with the crop and spreader bar again, she saw him in her sleep and fantasized about him spreading her wide again, but this time it was to fuck her, to use her as his willing vessel.
Jezebel dreamed of him holding her still, with a hand in her hair and his ever steady voice soothing her.
"Always be available, Pet. Your Master shouldn't have a problem getting to whichever hole he prefers."
And then the dream changed so that she was spread wide again, but on her back, and he was crawling like an animal above her, licking his way up her body.
"You're mine, little slave, and there's nothing you can do, nowhere you can run. You will never be free of a collar, but that's a good thing, isn't it?"
Jezebel woke with a cry, her legs spread as wide as the spreader had held her. She thought of going for one of her one night stands to clear her head, but then couldn't do it.
The thought of going to someone else made her think of him with someone else, which was a thought she carefully avoided for terror of some stupid jealousy.
Jezebel panicked and ended up calling him instead, pouring out her fear and telling him she needed him, that she was scared of getting attached because of all the emotion.
"Such an emotional little Pet. Come to Sulfur's, and let's see what we can do to soothe you." Sulfur's was starting to seem like a magical place where everything made sense.
Every time she called him with panic in her voice, it was always answered with, "Come to Sulfur's."
***