FIC: Thus Spoke Zarathustra // Chapter Five : Trick Or Treat Pt.1
Title: Thus Spake Zarathustra: Chapter Five : Trick or Treat Pt.1 (Post #2)
Characters/Pairing: Sylar/Claire
Summary: Master or Husband? Sylar's coming to the slow realization he really can't have both.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Women as property. Kinks are voyeurism (camera), whips, canes, domination, chains, piercing, semi-predicament bondage but none of the violence is non-consensual or over-the-top (which I will henceforth warn for in light of the obvious fact it could trigger some people).
Notes: ~ 16,150 words all together, much of it sex and Sylar's issues. Which lead to sex. It has lots of kink (the kink I'm counting for my bingo will be the voyeurism, I think). I will be including more Molly (and Luke) in coming chapters but I wanted to get back to basics, so to speak.
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She risked climbing into his lap and pressed her cheek up to where his heart beat slow, steady, and loud. It sounded surprisingly nice and Claire found her fingers curling into the thick material of his t-shirt as she settled. It’d been a long time since she thought of herself as normal and even that’d been a lie. “It’s not what I want.” What if she did something stupid like fall in love with someone? They, along with whoever Sylar crossed paths with while waiting for her, would die. “And it wouldn’t stop the pain. I would never be ready.” Not after Costa Verde. “Not unless you went back and stopped yourself from taking my power too. Maybe even changed Homecoming. I watched you kill the wrong girl in front of me.”
He kissed the top of her head, his arms wrapping around her gently. “Maybe I should. I could go back, give myself your ability, and then he’d - I’d - have no reason to go to Odessa at that point. It’d save me some grief too. Attacking your homecoming is how I met the Company. Officially, at least. That second meeting was even more unpleasant than the first, which says something. It’d change things in some unforeseen ways but I doubt you’d end up… Well, I doubt you’d attract the attention of another someone like me.”
From the way he said it she could tell what he really meant, what he didn’t say about why he wanted to do this. “I’m broken,” she told him sadly, closing her eyes as she clung to his shirt and tried not to cry for the second time today. “I don’t know if I broke too early or in the wrong way but you don’t like the new me.”
“Claire, that’s not it. I love you. You know that. I just… I broke you and I feel guilty about it.” He sighed. “I know that probably doesn’t make sense to you when killing people doesn’t really bother me but I really expected you to bend, not break.”
He’d wanted her to bend, not to break, and she’d disappointed him. The only thing she’d done right, or maybe right, right enough to defend herself, slipped out before she could regret it. “I’m happier now…” Maybe not happy like he wanted yet but better than she’d been doing.
“You’re repressing,” he countered. “Your fear, for one. Fear bad enough that you’ve apparently been hiding away from me to cry a few times a week.”
She winced. “I won’t hide from you again.”
“For once this really isn’t about you hiding.” Sylar rubbed her back slowly. “I understand why you did it, why you’d worry it’d be worse if I knew than if you hid it. I wish I didn’t but I understand. This is about the fact you need to cry in the first place, when things get to be too much. How healthy can repressing all your fear and anger be? How stable can that be? If it’s not stable then I might be looking at being a single father and I don’t want that. I want us to raise our children together. You were doing okay before I…” He trailed off, kissing the top of her head again. “You deserved better. I have the ability to go back in time. I can give you better. We just need to figure out the best way for us to work.”
Listening to his heartbeat for a bit while she thought helped but no matter how she looked at it it all went back to the blood on his hands. “Get me when I was still easily impressionable?” His grip tightened as he asked what she meant. “By the time I met you I was growing a spine but six months earlier? Or, better, a year. Back then I’d basically just discovered boys and an older, attractive man paying attention to me would have been flattering. If you got to me before I knew about my ability and helped me through it…” Forcing herself to open her eyes, she tilted her head up but found him staring off in the distance and not down at her. Without a better look at his face she couldn’t tell what he thought of her idea. “It’d be your best shot. I’m not sure what I was really ready for, back then, in terms of, you know, relationships. But you could lay the groundwork.”
“All I have to do is emotionally seduce an impressionable young girl using her own knowledge against her.”
“Naïve and impressionable,” Claire pointed out. “I’ve only kissed three boys, did you know that, and the farthest any of them got was Brody Mitchell trying to rape me. So going back wouldn’t be that big a deal - I was so inexperienced, naïve, when you took me. A little bit more, before I kissed a boy, before the rape attempt, wouldn’t make that much difference for you but then I wouldn’t have to live with the memory of Brody killing me. I woke up during my own autopsy, after the coroner cracked open my chest. Did you already know that?”
“No,” he replied softly, shaking his head slowly and looked down at her. “I didn’t know. You mentioned an attempted rape before but not how you stopped him.”
“I didn’t. He threw me onto a branch. It’s how I learned about the kill switch spot.” She shivered a little at the old memory. And then, despite herself, she smiled at the other part. Right afterwards she’d felt guilty. Since Sylar took her ability and she couldn’t get that feeling he’d given her, the same one Brody had given her on a smaller scale, out of her chest she’d stopped feeling guilty about nearly killing her near rapist. Asshole. “And then I did. I drove his car into a brick wall at 70 miles per hour while he was in it with me. It broke tons of stuff and took him two months to remember his name.”
“That sounds like the girl who stabbed me.” Sylar chuckled. “A few times. Not that I didn’t deserve it. I was being an ass.” He nuzzled the top of her head, taking a deep breath like he did sometimes. He said she smelled perfect to him, like the best perfume he could imagine. While he sniffed her stomach twisted at the reminders of her bad girl behavior.
But she didn’t have to be a bad girl to do what he wanted. “Or… I’m good at repressing.” Practice helps. “If you want me to act more like I did when I was fighting you I can try.” It meant being more assertive - it meant arguing with him and, god, she didn’t want to do that but she’d try, for him, and take the punishment, for him. “I won’t fight you but, you know, share my opinion more and stand up for myself. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She felt a light touch against the top of her head and realized he’d just nodded. Good, it meant she had it right. “I can do that. I think I can do that.”
“Can, but don’t want to. You cringe every time you stand up for yourself, as rare as that is, now, do you realize?” So she’d work on getting past that and told him so. “It’s not the way you want to live. I don’t need to read your thoughts to know you think you’ll be punished more and more severely if you do speak up. You’re my good girl and still willing to do it but you’re also afraid. And we just talked about how repressing fear isn’t the way to be healthy.”
Protecting herself from emotions that made her hysterical seemed healthy to her. “If I stop and let the fear take over I’ll be useless, a mess who can’t do anything but cry and flinch.”
“We can work through it together.” He squeezed the back of her neck now, his hand a heavy but reassuring weight there. “I can help you master the fear, babydoll, so that you don’t have to be afraid or repressing all the time. But maybe I should just go back. You have a point about your experience levels when I took you. Working my way into your life a little earlier wouldn’t be any worse than what I’ve already done and that way I wouldn’t need cages or restraints to keep you. The only problem with that would be working around Noah.”
“He was gone on business a lot.”
“But it’d be a risk that you might talk to him about me at some point. He knows who I am by that point, Claire. He’d knows how dangerous I can be.” He shook his head. “Sticking with the present could be the safest course of action. I’ll just have to focus on helping you recover.”
She didn’t need a damn recovery but she didn’t say so. No, instead she closed her eyes again and dropped her head to go back to listening to his heartbeat. It soothed her until he finally got sick of the silence and said her name in that demanding tone of his. What did he want her to say? Claire worried her lip again, worrying about how she just promised to stand up for herself more. Maybe he wanted her to do that now. “I’m okay how I am now, except that you don’t like it. I’m happier. It’s easier on me than how things were before.” Before, when she still fought him - that went unsaid. “I like you being nice and you’ve been so nice with the dinner and shopping and everything.
“In bed you’re not so nice but I like that too. You know how much I like it when you take control and hurt me there.” Just the thought made her nipples tighten and that made the ache she’d mostly been ignoring return. The tiny little teeth on the bands attached to the barbell nipple piercings made each nipple extra sensitive to every little bit of touch or tightening. She pushed her chest out some, trying to tempt him to play with her further.
Sylar summed up the situation in one simple sentence: “So you want things to stay like they are now, except you want me to be okay with you being broken.”
“Yes, Sylar. I want to please you. I can do all the wife-companion things you want and still be your toy, your whore, your slave.” Her dry lips felt chapped and she wetted them; his eyes focused on the flick of her tongue as she did it. “I can be a mother to your children and still be owned by you.”
His frown was almost too slight to notice but she had a lot of experience reading his moods. “There’s a shop in London where I got most of my toys, like this bed,” he told her randomly. “It’s owned by a man with a slave of his own. She has a name but it’s never used; he just calls her ‘Pet’. She reminds me of you. Physically, I mean. She’s blonde, petite but with powerful hips. Part of her service to her… Master is serving the needs of his customers as best she can. I asked him about it and he said he enjoys watching her get fucked and used by other men. He told me some of the appeal is that she doesn’t like it but she does it because she wants to please him that much.
“Like how you would have… serviced Luke if I pressed you instead of encouraged you to say no. That’s what being owned is about. Do you really want that?”
The idea of being offered up for random men to fuck and scream and cry for made her stomach twist up in knots that almost drove her to be ill. But she hoped she never needed to be scared of that. “You’re too possessive to share me like that. That’s not what you’d do.”
He sighed. “Yes, it’s just an example. But it’s an important one. Another might be… I might like to stretch out your other hole some, it’s so tight naturally it’s almost painful. How would you like going to class or out to see friends with a butt plug secured in that tight little hole of yours?” She swallowed a moan at the description and the growing ache in her nipples. Like when she pictured being fucked over the table at the nice restaurant he took her to this idea surprised her by making her wet. One eyebrow of his went up and he reached over to lightly brush his hand over her breasts. “The idea’s getting you hot. Huh, seems I have a little exhibitionist on my hands. But I have another example I’m sure you won’t find pleasant or arousing.” It sounded like a warning that she didn’t want to know this but she wouldn’t interrupt now to keep from hearing the rest. “Some dominants enjoy training their submissives to act as urinals. The slave’s job is to swallow down all her master’s piss whenever he wants her to, or wear it if he wants that instead.”
She shuddered at the thought of being down on her knees in the bathroom, mouth open and ready to take whatever Sylar wanted, even if he wanted to piss in her mouth instead of fuck it. “Ar-are you interested in that?” Claire asked as steadily as she could.
“I’ve considered it, as punishment. There’s something appealing about the idea you’d do even this for me. And that’s why I worry about having you as pure slave - there’s so many ways left to humiliate or torture you and I want to try most of them. Does the idea make you sick?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Would you do it anyway?”
She nodded again. “Yes.”
“And do you really want to sign up for that sort of life, Claire? I’m giving you a free pass out. Even if I do lose it sometimes, even if I can’t keep perfect control, it’d only be occasionally. As my slave you’d be at my mercy every minute of every hour of every day and there’s so, so many ways I can think of to use you.”
She shivered at his second warning but it didn’t change anything for her. Between not really knowing how to be a wife, the risk of his temper getting out of control over completely unpredictable things, and the appeal of knowing that as his good girl Claire only needed to worry about one thing it sounded so much better than trying to act as his wife. Even if he did want to hurt her - she enjoyed the pain, mostly - and maybe piss on or in her as punishment - she’d get over it - it still seemed better than trying to play equals when he outclassed her in power, experience, and brutality.
“I’m yours,” Claire said simply but without any doubt in her voice. “I’m yours to use however you want.”
He sighed just a little and cupped her cheek. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s better this way. We’d just fight if I was allowed to talk back to you and make big decisions and you’d always win the fight. You’re stronger than me. All I can do is bleed all over you.” The last part came out roughly; she hated that the most when she thought about her ability. Everyone else could fight back but all she could do was jump out windows to get away.
“My slave,” Sylar said quietly. It didn’t seem to have a question so she stayed quiet too; he must just be thinking this out. “It’s really not what I intended when I started this, though I should have thought of this possibility. Of course there’d always be the possibility the training would stick too well to get it out of your head, even with time.” Now he shook his head but, she thought, mostly at himself. “Okay. I can do this. I’ll be your master. Eventually you’ll grow out of it, I’m sure, even if it takes a while. It’s not like we don’t have the time.” Now he smiled and she smiled back, shifting to push her breasts out for his attention.
The ache kept getting bigger, getting her wetter, and she knew wearing these all the time would be a slow torture to keep her aroused from the pain all the time. Her obvious ploy to get him touching her breasts made him chuckle and he slowly ran his fingers down the sides of each of them.
“I still want you to use your safe word if the pain gets too much. If you aren’t getting aroused by the pain anymore, just hurt, you’re to use the safe word. Same thing if this reminds you of, of what I did to you after your miscarriage. Tell me you understand.”
She licked her lips. “I understand, Sylar.” Because he ordered it she’d do exactly as told if he crossed a line, but she didn’t worry so much about him crossing that line tonight. His self-control worked most of the time; it only really failed when he got mad and lashed out and he’d already told her he didn’t feel mad tonight.
“Good Girl.” He ruffled her hair. “I love how my name sounds when you say it but for the video you have permission to call me Master.” Like she’d done before for the first video. Would he make her read the comments again this time? “Since you didn’t I’m going to go get some tools now. Just lie down and - Play with your clit but not enough to come. You orgasm only when I tell you to.” With his empathic ability he’d know exactly when to tell her she could come. For now she did as told, starting on the outer lips of her pussy and hoping he’d be quick. He reached down and put one of her hands on her clit. “I didn’t say cunt, I said clit.” Her stomach tightened as she touched the little nub and tugged on the piercing.
Her legs shook by the time he came back and she wanted to come, even from the slow, light strokes she’d been using to try to keep away a forbidden orgasm. She wanted to come enough that as soon as he dropped his tools down on the bed next to her she tried, “Please, Sylar, can I come now?” The video hadn’t started yet so she still called him by his name, the way he liked.
He couldn’t keep her teasing herself like this, soon he’d either need to let her come or give her permission to stop touching her oversensitive clit. Or she’d have to do one or the other without permission. “No, but you may stop touching yourself and stand at the end of the bed, facing away from it.”
She yanked her hand away immediately as little shakes still ran through her muscles all the way down to her toes. As soon as they stopped she crawled to the end of the bed and then off so she didn’t have a chance to see the toys he picked out. She found out about the rope soon enough as he tied an end of each rope to the bed posts that held no canopy. At the other end of the rope he made loops big enough for her hands to go in before they tightened and, sure enough, he ordered her to wrap her hands around the loops. Sylar put them just high enough that, if she spread her legs like he’d want she needed to go on her tiptoes to grab the rope. She did that and tugged on each loop but neither tightened. “Just holds?”
“Yes. Holds to keep you in the position I want. I know you have the will power to stay where I put you.” When she’d thought of the same thing earlier this hadn’t been the position she pictured. Soon standing like this would make her toes ache.
He went back to grab another tool - two tools even, one being a long but thin steel link chain and the other nipple clamps. Not the nicer type of nipple clamps either because these had little, sharp metal teeth that could make the current bite band around the peak of her breasts seem like nothing. With her sensitive nipples she knew it’d hurt a lot. He probably wanted it that way and she stayed silent while he attached one end of the chain to each of her barbell nipple piercings. The chain dangled down to just below her belly button, tapping the skin there as it swung a little. The extra weight of the chain tugged her nipples down a little, forcing the underside to press harder into the band’s sharp points.
When he pinched one slightly swollen lip of her sex she froze in horrible anticipation before the clamp’s hard teeth grazed both the protective outside and the super sensitive inside. He let go. Tthe clamp tightened, shoving those points deep into her skin. Claire jerked from the pain and bit her lip to keep her whine down at the sudden, intense bite but it still came out in a quiet hiss. As he moved the second clamp into position on her other side of her pussy a whimper escaped and her whole body tensed. She held onto the ropes hard enough her knuckles went white as the useless shake she did trying to escape the pain knocked her off her toes. Her sex clenched and unclenched over and over, trying to get used to the clamps.
The pain settled down some into a deep ache after what felt like forever and she noticed the tug on them for the first time. When putting them on her Sylar looped the short chain connecting the clamps with the chain dangling from her nipples and the ring in her clit piercing. And the chains seemed too short, making everything tug twice as hard as the metal went taunt with pressure. He flicked his finger directly on her clit, jolting all the chains in the process, and she clenched for a whole other reason than pain.
A bit of liquid snaked down the inside of her thigh and he gathered it up, sucking it off his finger with a smirk. “I’m turning on the camera now,” he told her as she saw the little red light flashed on before he moved her way and stroked her hair away from her face. “Good Girl.”
Claire managed a small smile through the pain and arousal because he’d called her that but then she saw what he held in his other hand. He lifted up the thin, long cane just then, eyeing her different parts as if deciding what to do first. With the chains on the front and the bed at her back, protecting her ass, she couldn’t figure out where he might hit her. Not long after that he made a decision and lined up the cane carefully, every movement deliberate, slow, and making her more and more nervous. It came down with a quiet whoosh right across her breasts, hitting the primed tips of her nipples where no piercings or chains protected them. Her body went hard with pain, clenching as it radiated out from the impact point, and she whined through clenched teeth as she threw her head back when the second wave of pain hit. Then the healing finished the pain off, returning her to just as good as before and more scared of the cane than she had been.
When he lined up another stroke she screwed her eyes shut, clenched her teeth again to keep from biting her tongue, and waited. She didn’t wait long as the cane whistled before striking the round top of her breasts. This time she only shuddered silently as the welt ached and stung and, finally, healed. She’d started panting, sweat beading her hair line but didn’t open her eyes.
The next strike came as a complete surprise. It landed straight across on her upper, sensitive thighs and hit the chain connected to her clit ring and the clamps too. The clamps jerked, dragging a choked cry out of her. Her clit sent signals all through her body, turning the already fading pain into the right type of pleasure, and she whimpered while opening her eyes. He watched her so intently, a bulge in the front of his pants as she panted and whimpered, that she shivered a little and did her best to push her body out toward him to give him the best targets. He smiled at her, “That’s my princess, being such a good girl without even needing orders.” His hand trailed down between her breasts, all the way down to her wet sex where Sylar shoved two fingers all the way in.
She gasped and her sex clenched. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be allowed to orgasm soon. “Thank you, Master.”
He tossed the cane on the ground and cupped her cheek with his now empty hand before leaning in for a kiss. His other hand thrust in and out of her so she moaned into his mouth when the kiss deepened. “Come?” she whispered before he pulled away. The small shake of his head took that hope away as he circled behind her for yet another tool.
Only the crack of the whip warned Claire of the coming strike across her shoulder blades. It stung like a little line of fire but healed before she even could breathe in-and-out to take the pain in. Breathing evenly and slowly made it easier to take so she kept doing it. It helped when a second strike, a little bit lower than the first, ran across her back. It helped when a third landed just an inch lower than that. As soon as the latest whip mark healed he struck again, over and over all the way down her back. From this angle the camera couldn’t see the welts fade away but it had perfect view of her shuddering, spasming body as she took each strike of the whip in clenched teeth silence and moaned at how Sylar thrust his fingers into her ready cunt while she healed. Hit, thrust, moan, heal - it happened maybe a dozen times and by the last she rocked back into both the hit and his teasing thrust. Then he circled back around to her front just in range of the camera without blocking her from view, she thought, without the whip.
“Open.” She tried to spread her legs even more but only managed to rock off her straining toes again and he laughed quietly, right against her ear. “Your mouth, princess.”
Oh. She did it, opening her mouth wide, and he shoved the fingers wet from her pussy in all the way. The tangy taste of her primed sex coated her tongue as she sucked and licked his fingers clean. When he pulled them out she kept her mouth open, waiting for what came next. The ball gag surprised her as he shoved the spongy ball between her teeth and secured the straps tight enough to dig into the corners of her mouth.
Then Sylar patted her head with a smile. “Princess can get loud when getting fucked so today I’m going to gag her.” The promise of fucking made her forget her annoyance at the gag and she nodded emphatically, hoping he’d fuck her right now. “Let go of the rope, princess.” Order given he started to walk away to one of the cubby shelves to get another toy. Letting go of the rope dropped her back down onto the soles of her feet and her toes and, after having the nerves there compressed for so long, they ached fiercely as blood flowed back in. When he took off the clamps the same thing would happen and Claire knew she’d scream then whether she wanted to or not. She waited, hands at her side and legs spread, only partially so that the two clamps couldn’t knock into each other. Finally he came back storing something on the bed before moving back where she could see him. She smiled enthusiastically and tried to arch her sex out in hopes he’d finger it or fuck it or both but he ignored her plaintive stare and only patted her sex. “Get up on your hands and knees facing the head board, princess. I want to fuck you from behind. You’re as desperate as a cat in heat so it seems appropriate.”
In heat. God, yes. Claire felt exactly like that, enough she had to wonder if he’d somehow given her a high dose of the aphrodisiac he liked her to take and whether she really cared if he did. She wanted relief so bad she hurried up on the bed even though it jangled the chains painfully and drew a groan out of her. As she panted new streaks of pain ran up and down her body, making her clench . Her pussy clenched last and just that little movement set the clamps off again bad enough she whined. With the ball gag in she couldn’t even ask him to block the pain for her when he finally removed the clamps completely. Instead of talking she tried to communicate with her body, rocking her bottom toward where Sylar stood at the end of the bed. He laughed and gave it a slap.
Then he climbed up behind her, now naked with his long, hard cock pressing up between her ass cheeks but he didn’t fuck her then either. He leaned over, covering her whole body with his until his mouth came just about even with her ear, and he said, “I want to make you cry tonight, babydoll. I’m going to, I promise you that. If you come before I do you will dearly, dearly regret it and they’ll get a very entertaining video of you being punished for disobedience.”
Oh, god. Claire shivered at the calm way he told her the rule and that punishment would follow, more because she couldn’t stop from coming if he really wanted to make her. It could be a trick rule where she had no way to win, done for his amusement and because of his mood. Behind the gag she tried to say “Yes, Sylar” but it came out mumbled and distorted. He kissed her cheek so she thought he understood what she meant to say.
As he pulled back she watched him grab the toy he’d taken just a few minutes ago and realized he held a full-size, realistic dildo in his hand. Did he want her to suck him off instead? Hadn’t he said he planned to fuck her from behind?
Sylar’s weight shifted on the bed and the hard heat of his cock pulled away. She held very still to keep the chains still too as she felt the round head of the cool dildo touch the entrance to her sex. He slid the dildo in without trouble as wet as she already was and thrust it a few times until she moaned from it. Then he rubbed her back gently as he slid back into place. She only realized what he meant to do when his cock head rubbed against her small asshole and she wanted to jerk away from the strange invasion. He’d only fucked her, or had a dildo fuck her, in her ass the one time and it’d felt strange and a little painful.
But Claire didn’t jerk or crawl or turn away from his cock; she bunched her hands in the comforter and tried very hard to relax. When she did he rewarded her by moving the dildo in and out slowly. Soon the slow rhythm of the dildo fucking her lured her into relaxing completely. Once she forgot about the chains and rocked back into the thick faux dick but the pain quickly reminded her to stay still. So when her husband’s - and master’s - large, dry cock tried to push through her asshole to get inside of her she forced herself to keep very still. She couldn’t even ask for lube, not that she thought he just forgot it. He must want to fuck her dry. The entire area felt both torn and full even though dry he only managed to get just the tip into her before he groaned and muttered ‘too tight’. The dildo got yanked out of her and replaced by a warm, human cock. His hands went to her hips and he fucked her hard, fast, building her up to an orgasm she couldn’t have because she hadn’t cried. Then, after one last deep thrust, he filled her up with the dildo again and went back to her ass.
She waited and forced herself to relax her thighs, ass, and pussy again. His toy slipped into her even more easily now that she opened up more and he used the chance to speed up the thrusts to something past teasing without being fast. Then he pressed the tip of his cock back up against her hole and the need to orgasm fled from her worry. The last time he did this he stopped after just putting the head in, like he only did it to prove he could. Maybe he planned that again, on tape this time. She closed her eyes, locking her arms to keep from rocking with the jerky thrusts from the dildo, and breathe slowly. Sylar started rubbing her back again. He parted her cheeks with his other hand but pulled that hand back suddenly until he pushed it between them to run his finger slowly around the rim of her asshole. Small and vulnerable she held her breath when the pressure began, growing harder and harder until finally, with a rip that made it sting, he had the head inside of her. This time he stayed and rocked his hips slowly as each soft movement pushed him farther inside. It pushed her forward too, shaking the chains that clinked together in the otherwise near silent room. Each shake tugged at either her pussy lips or her clit and sometimes both until the rhythm got her mixing pain with pleasure with pain and back again. It hurt, she hurt, but the jerking at her clit, the dildo rubbing up against the walls of her pussy, even the fullness of having both her ass and pussy fucked at the same time filled her with pleasurable jolts, shivers, and throbbing aches until her brain shut down to just the pain, the pleasure, and the feel of her husband rubbing her back as he fucked her.
But she still couldn’t come. And the fucking was bringing her so close, so close she didn’t know how to stop it, didn’t know if she could stop it. “Come? Come, please? Please?” came out in moans of sounds instead of words. She’d get punished for sure.
Then the hand he’d put on her hip for balance reached around to the front of her, rubbing her clit first until she clenched and tried to think of anything that might kill the pleasure she felt. Nothing came to her scattered mind. At first Claire didn’t notice his hand moving further down to feel out the clamp on the left side. Without warning the clamp came off and she jerked forward, away from his hand, as she keened through the gag and collapsed onto her elbows.
She stayed there while she healed, only a few seconds that felt like eternity, then her head dropped down between her arms as she forced herself to push back into position. This time she trembled a little and not because he’d gone back to playing with her clit.
This time the hand rubbing her back reached around as he still tugged on, rubbed on, and pinched her clit between his strong fingers. This time she braced for the pain. Even when he pinched her clit at just the right time and pleasure ran through her blood the clamp coming off still made her give a choked scream as blood rushed back into sensitive spaces. She coughed, shaking and breathing hard, while he kept the pressure up steadily: his hand on her clit, the dildo in her cunt, and his cock in her ass all tempted her to burst but she still hadn’t cried.
Soon Claire wouldn’t have a choice but to come and however he punished her she’d cry then no doubt. Then his fingers pulled away and his own pace, if not the one in her sex, slowed. “As much as I’m enjoying your ass I think I’m in the mood for your mouth.” He pulled out with a pop and her ass tingled, then tightened, completely healed from the rips he’d done. When the gag loosened the sides of her mouth did the same thing before she spit the spongy ball out.
His hands circled her middle and turned her around like a ragdoll and it was then she realized he wanted her to suck him off now. Like he was. When he’d just been… “I’ll go get a washcloth to clean you, Master.” She started to crawl toward the side of the bed to get off but his hand, and invisible kinesis, held her still.
“No, you can clean me.” So casual. So… icky. And Claire knew he only did this to prove he could to her if she really wanted an owner instead of a husband. She’d expected retaliation but not this sort of use of her ass for sure.
Crawling back into position brought her face even to his cock, which looked clean at least and still completely hard. “Do you want to fuck me, Master?” He’d know she meant her mouth. When the answer didn’t come immediately she glanced up and he shook his head.
Steeling her nerves she did the only thing she could and lightly licked the end of his hard cock. No bad taste hit her yet and she breathed a sigh of relief while swirling her tongue around the head. Next she licked the shaft, short, gentle licks all the way down and all the way up until she’d licked every bit of his cock and balls. Sylar started groaning half way through and absently playing with her hair at three-fourths. With every bit licked she still didn’t taste anything stranger than the tangy-salty-weird flavor of pre-cum, the sour-salty sweat that dripped down from his lower stomach, and the normal taste of his skin. It gave her the courage to take the head in her mouth, careful of her teeth, and bob her head down.
At first she stayed with shallow movements, taking only an inch or two into her mouth as she sucked the head of his cock and let go and sucked again while pre-cum drizzled out of the end. When his groans turned from short grunts and gasps to near growls Claire pushed harder, sucking three inches in until his cock hit the back of her mouth. She licked and made little noises that vibrated just like he liked and started bobbing up-down, up-down as fast and as deep as she could without choking. His fingers clutched tightly, grabbing her hair. It hurt every time she went down but she ignored it. Instead she focused keeping her teeth away and not choking and the way he’d moved his foot to rub his toes against her sex. She wasn’t allowed to come yet but it still felt nice. When Sylar started jerking his hips every few times she pulled back up she went down further, all the way down until her nose rested in the black bush of hair at the base of his cock and his cock head pushed into her throat.
Like always, it didn’t trigger a gag reflex she didn’t seem to have. She could throw up - she’d done it before, even after getting her ability - but losing the gag reflex was just another one of the strange things her body was capable of now.
His foot pressed harder now, toenails digging into her sensitive clit and all around it, but he was beyond noticing. He always was when they got this far. A second later he started to flex his thighs and it rocked his hips, giving him the push he needed to sink deeper into her mouth. She tried to suck still and not focus on the growing burn for air. Luckily it didn’t take long before he groaned, mumbling, “Fuck, babydoll. Good girl, good girl,” as he spent himself in her mouth. He added, “Don’t swallow,” when he pulled out. “Show the camera first.”
Her cheeks heated but she crawled closer to the end of the bed and opened her mouth obediently, so that the camera - and eventual audience - would see his come and her following his order. After a few seconds she turned back to him, mouth still a little bit open, and he nodded. She turned back to the camera and swallowed.
When she turned a second time he grabbed her collar and pulled her forward using it, smiling. “I really thought the clamps would make you cry,” he told her as he ran the back of his hand along her cheek. “I suppose I’m just going to have to be more creative.”
Claire could have cursed herself right then. She hadn’t wanted to cry too easy and now he planned to keep hurting her without letting her come until she did cry. When she’d volunteered to be his punching bag to help him get through all the stress of the last few days she thought it’d come with lots of orgasms. “Please, let me come?” she said it quietly, not begging, not trying to emotionally blackmail him into it, just as a statement of what she wanted right then. She wanted to come. Badly.
He reached down and twisted one of her nipples hard enough she gasped at the sudden shock of pain-pleasure. It only made her want to come more. “I’m tempted but, no. Not until you’re crying. It really is hotter for me that way.”
She nodded silently and waited for him to decide on the next ‘game’. When he sat up completely instead of leaning back, he rubbed a hand over the ribbon corset he’d marked her with. The rings didn’t move, of course, fused as they were by her healed skin but he could tug on the ribbon to move that skin. Sylar did that now. “I wonder if these are strong enough to suspend you by.”
Her breathing went shallow and slow, as if by barely breathing she could disappear. The idea of her skin being pulled down by her full weight sounded about as fun as a porcupine to the cunt. “M-Maybe?”
“Probably not.” He sighed. “Experiment for another day. I don’t want you too injured to keep amusing me.” From the soft look he actually gave her she knew he mostly said it that way for the camera. Especially since he couldn’t injure her too much. He did like to put on a show. He rubbed a hand over her ribbons again and then reached her ass, smacking it a few times. She took those strikes silently before he got up to go back over to his shelves of gear. Sex gear. He came back with a small chain with a clasp at each end and pushed her into kneeling instead of her hands and knees. Once up Sylar hooked the one end to her clit piercing and the other to the chain still dangling from her nipples; like before the chains went taunt from being just a little short to comfortably reach. When he flicked his finger against the chain she shook. Fuck, she wanted to come.
“Please, Master? I’ll come when I cry too. I always do.” Claire bit into her lip hard while she waited on his answer.
He stared at her with nearly black eyes - his pupils almost entirely dilated - for a long, long time. Without knowing exactly how long she knew at least a full minute passed. Then he grabbed her hair, yanking her head back hard, and said, deliberately, “You really don’t want to come. If you come now you’ll only pay for it with more pain. I’m not in a very merciful or nice mood.”
Claire swallowed and tried to pull her head forward. He slowly let go of her hair. “I know. And I know. I still want to come. Please.”
“So long as you understand.” He shoved his hand between her legs, forcing two fingers inside her feverish sex while his thumb played with her clit. Some of the arousal from before, and the pain that had since healed, had lessened so she didn’t reach the edge immediately. Then she lost it all when he pulled his hand away. No, please no, he couldn’t change his mind. Thankfully, he didn’t. “Lie down with your legs spread wide and over the side of the bed. I’m going to go get some rope.”
What did he need rope for?
After she obeyed he came back with the rope and started to tie it carefully round-and-round her thighs. Four circles on each thigh before he tied it off. Then he tied them to the bed posts, forcing her legs to spread even wider. Like this nothing protected her sensitive sex and even the chain linking her clit and breasts tugged harder. Then she noticed the second item he brought over: a small whip. When he smiled at her she swallowed very hard and stayed very still. She couldn’t smile back convincingly so she didn’t try.
At first he only hit her very softly, slowing picking up strength and speed as she noticed this whip felt different from the other one, like it had something hard and solid at the tips of the whip pieces. The thuds turned to whumps and the whumps to stings as his hand sped up its methodical snapping. Snap went the whip and this time when it hit one of the little things, bead-things, hit her clit. It took the already growing pain to new heights and pleasure struck, making the whole area feel like a live wire.
That didn’t stop Sylar. He even licked his lips when she cried out at the next impact. Harder again, it stung so hard that the bead-like things felt sharp, like they must have sliced into her skin. Everywhere stung and she tried to rock but the ropes wouldn’t let her. “Please, please, please,” she repeated so many times she lost count while the whip hit her swollen pussy until it felt like every touch would make it explode. Or make her explode. “Hurts. Please. Hurts.” Even her chants couldn’t keep Claire from reaching the edge. Something felt damp on her face when she tried closing her eyes and she realized she’d started crying just like he wanted. She could come now.
So she let go, stopped trying to control it. Her back arched while she slammed her hands down on the bed, she panted hard, her heart thudding in her chest even harder, and her thighs strained and then she knew nothing but the blinding, delicious pleasure. It struck again, building releasing, building releasing, one right after another and when she finally, finally, came back to her surroundings she found Sylar buried deep inside her and fucking her fast. He slammed his hips all the way against her, jabbing his cock against the back of her sex in the most pain/pleasure way before pulling out and doing it again. Really fast. Soon he groaned, shoved all the way in again, and came.
When he came back to his senses he leaned over her, still inside her, gave her a kiss and said, “Next time you’ll ask for and wait for permission. Do you understand?” He already started undoing the ties and she waited to answer until he pulled out of her and she could close her legs. Also, scoot up on the bed some more.
Then she nodded sleepily only to remember he liked questions answered out loud, “Yes, Sylar. Can I sleep now?”
“May I,” he corrected automatically. “Yes, you may. I’ll put this up on the site and then join you.”
At the reminder of where the video would go she shivered a little. “Are you going to make me look at the comments again?”
He smirked. “Of course I am. Your embarrassment is part of the fun for me.” Something must have shown on her face because he added, “Be glad I’m not taking you to play parties and making you perform on stage in front of a live audience.” A pause. “Yet. But maybe I will, in a few months or a year.”
Claire closed her eyes so those wouldn’t betray the total fear and nausea that rolled through her, then turned on her side to sleep. He could feel it anyway, she knew, but maybe if he thought she needed rest so badly he wouldn’t press her reaction right now.
Surprisingly, he didn’t. Instead Sylar kissed her temple and smoothed back her hair. “I love you, Claire.” She heard him move the camera around and then she heard nothing, already asleep.
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Comments are love! They're what keep me writing.
Characters/Pairing: Sylar/Claire
Summary: Master or Husband? Sylar's coming to the slow realization he really can't have both.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Women as property. Kinks are voyeurism (camera), whips, canes, domination, chains, piercing, semi-predicament bondage but none of the violence is non-consensual or over-the-top (which I will henceforth warn for in light of the obvious fact it could trigger some people).
Notes: ~ 16,150 words all together, much of it sex and Sylar's issues. Which lead to sex. It has lots of kink (the kink I'm counting for my bingo will be the voyeurism, I think). I will be including more Molly (and Luke) in coming chapters but I wanted to get back to basics, so to speak.
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She risked climbing into his lap and pressed her cheek up to where his heart beat slow, steady, and loud. It sounded surprisingly nice and Claire found her fingers curling into the thick material of his t-shirt as she settled. It’d been a long time since she thought of herself as normal and even that’d been a lie. “It’s not what I want.” What if she did something stupid like fall in love with someone? They, along with whoever Sylar crossed paths with while waiting for her, would die. “And it wouldn’t stop the pain. I would never be ready.” Not after Costa Verde. “Not unless you went back and stopped yourself from taking my power too. Maybe even changed Homecoming. I watched you kill the wrong girl in front of me.”
He kissed the top of her head, his arms wrapping around her gently. “Maybe I should. I could go back, give myself your ability, and then he’d - I’d - have no reason to go to Odessa at that point. It’d save me some grief too. Attacking your homecoming is how I met the Company. Officially, at least. That second meeting was even more unpleasant than the first, which says something. It’d change things in some unforeseen ways but I doubt you’d end up… Well, I doubt you’d attract the attention of another someone like me.”
From the way he said it she could tell what he really meant, what he didn’t say about why he wanted to do this. “I’m broken,” she told him sadly, closing her eyes as she clung to his shirt and tried not to cry for the second time today. “I don’t know if I broke too early or in the wrong way but you don’t like the new me.”
“Claire, that’s not it. I love you. You know that. I just… I broke you and I feel guilty about it.” He sighed. “I know that probably doesn’t make sense to you when killing people doesn’t really bother me but I really expected you to bend, not break.”
He’d wanted her to bend, not to break, and she’d disappointed him. The only thing she’d done right, or maybe right, right enough to defend herself, slipped out before she could regret it. “I’m happier now…” Maybe not happy like he wanted yet but better than she’d been doing.
“You’re repressing,” he countered. “Your fear, for one. Fear bad enough that you’ve apparently been hiding away from me to cry a few times a week.”
She winced. “I won’t hide from you again.”
“For once this really isn’t about you hiding.” Sylar rubbed her back slowly. “I understand why you did it, why you’d worry it’d be worse if I knew than if you hid it. I wish I didn’t but I understand. This is about the fact you need to cry in the first place, when things get to be too much. How healthy can repressing all your fear and anger be? How stable can that be? If it’s not stable then I might be looking at being a single father and I don’t want that. I want us to raise our children together. You were doing okay before I…” He trailed off, kissing the top of her head again. “You deserved better. I have the ability to go back in time. I can give you better. We just need to figure out the best way for us to work.”
Listening to his heartbeat for a bit while she thought helped but no matter how she looked at it it all went back to the blood on his hands. “Get me when I was still easily impressionable?” His grip tightened as he asked what she meant. “By the time I met you I was growing a spine but six months earlier? Or, better, a year. Back then I’d basically just discovered boys and an older, attractive man paying attention to me would have been flattering. If you got to me before I knew about my ability and helped me through it…” Forcing herself to open her eyes, she tilted her head up but found him staring off in the distance and not down at her. Without a better look at his face she couldn’t tell what he thought of her idea. “It’d be your best shot. I’m not sure what I was really ready for, back then, in terms of, you know, relationships. But you could lay the groundwork.”
“All I have to do is emotionally seduce an impressionable young girl using her own knowledge against her.”
“Naïve and impressionable,” Claire pointed out. “I’ve only kissed three boys, did you know that, and the farthest any of them got was Brody Mitchell trying to rape me. So going back wouldn’t be that big a deal - I was so inexperienced, naïve, when you took me. A little bit more, before I kissed a boy, before the rape attempt, wouldn’t make that much difference for you but then I wouldn’t have to live with the memory of Brody killing me. I woke up during my own autopsy, after the coroner cracked open my chest. Did you already know that?”
“No,” he replied softly, shaking his head slowly and looked down at her. “I didn’t know. You mentioned an attempted rape before but not how you stopped him.”
“I didn’t. He threw me onto a branch. It’s how I learned about the kill switch spot.” She shivered a little at the old memory. And then, despite herself, she smiled at the other part. Right afterwards she’d felt guilty. Since Sylar took her ability and she couldn’t get that feeling he’d given her, the same one Brody had given her on a smaller scale, out of her chest she’d stopped feeling guilty about nearly killing her near rapist. Asshole. “And then I did. I drove his car into a brick wall at 70 miles per hour while he was in it with me. It broke tons of stuff and took him two months to remember his name.”
“That sounds like the girl who stabbed me.” Sylar chuckled. “A few times. Not that I didn’t deserve it. I was being an ass.” He nuzzled the top of her head, taking a deep breath like he did sometimes. He said she smelled perfect to him, like the best perfume he could imagine. While he sniffed her stomach twisted at the reminders of her bad girl behavior.
But she didn’t have to be a bad girl to do what he wanted. “Or… I’m good at repressing.” Practice helps. “If you want me to act more like I did when I was fighting you I can try.” It meant being more assertive - it meant arguing with him and, god, she didn’t want to do that but she’d try, for him, and take the punishment, for him. “I won’t fight you but, you know, share my opinion more and stand up for myself. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She felt a light touch against the top of her head and realized he’d just nodded. Good, it meant she had it right. “I can do that. I think I can do that.”
“Can, but don’t want to. You cringe every time you stand up for yourself, as rare as that is, now, do you realize?” So she’d work on getting past that and told him so. “It’s not the way you want to live. I don’t need to read your thoughts to know you think you’ll be punished more and more severely if you do speak up. You’re my good girl and still willing to do it but you’re also afraid. And we just talked about how repressing fear isn’t the way to be healthy.”
Protecting herself from emotions that made her hysterical seemed healthy to her. “If I stop and let the fear take over I’ll be useless, a mess who can’t do anything but cry and flinch.”
“We can work through it together.” He squeezed the back of her neck now, his hand a heavy but reassuring weight there. “I can help you master the fear, babydoll, so that you don’t have to be afraid or repressing all the time. But maybe I should just go back. You have a point about your experience levels when I took you. Working my way into your life a little earlier wouldn’t be any worse than what I’ve already done and that way I wouldn’t need cages or restraints to keep you. The only problem with that would be working around Noah.”
“He was gone on business a lot.”
“But it’d be a risk that you might talk to him about me at some point. He knows who I am by that point, Claire. He’d knows how dangerous I can be.” He shook his head. “Sticking with the present could be the safest course of action. I’ll just have to focus on helping you recover.”
She didn’t need a damn recovery but she didn’t say so. No, instead she closed her eyes again and dropped her head to go back to listening to his heartbeat. It soothed her until he finally got sick of the silence and said her name in that demanding tone of his. What did he want her to say? Claire worried her lip again, worrying about how she just promised to stand up for herself more. Maybe he wanted her to do that now. “I’m okay how I am now, except that you don’t like it. I’m happier. It’s easier on me than how things were before.” Before, when she still fought him - that went unsaid. “I like you being nice and you’ve been so nice with the dinner and shopping and everything.
“In bed you’re not so nice but I like that too. You know how much I like it when you take control and hurt me there.” Just the thought made her nipples tighten and that made the ache she’d mostly been ignoring return. The tiny little teeth on the bands attached to the barbell nipple piercings made each nipple extra sensitive to every little bit of touch or tightening. She pushed her chest out some, trying to tempt him to play with her further.
Sylar summed up the situation in one simple sentence: “So you want things to stay like they are now, except you want me to be okay with you being broken.”
“Yes, Sylar. I want to please you. I can do all the wife-companion things you want and still be your toy, your whore, your slave.” Her dry lips felt chapped and she wetted them; his eyes focused on the flick of her tongue as she did it. “I can be a mother to your children and still be owned by you.”
His frown was almost too slight to notice but she had a lot of experience reading his moods. “There’s a shop in London where I got most of my toys, like this bed,” he told her randomly. “It’s owned by a man with a slave of his own. She has a name but it’s never used; he just calls her ‘Pet’. She reminds me of you. Physically, I mean. She’s blonde, petite but with powerful hips. Part of her service to her… Master is serving the needs of his customers as best she can. I asked him about it and he said he enjoys watching her get fucked and used by other men. He told me some of the appeal is that she doesn’t like it but she does it because she wants to please him that much.
“Like how you would have… serviced Luke if I pressed you instead of encouraged you to say no. That’s what being owned is about. Do you really want that?”
The idea of being offered up for random men to fuck and scream and cry for made her stomach twist up in knots that almost drove her to be ill. But she hoped she never needed to be scared of that. “You’re too possessive to share me like that. That’s not what you’d do.”
He sighed. “Yes, it’s just an example. But it’s an important one. Another might be… I might like to stretch out your other hole some, it’s so tight naturally it’s almost painful. How would you like going to class or out to see friends with a butt plug secured in that tight little hole of yours?” She swallowed a moan at the description and the growing ache in her nipples. Like when she pictured being fucked over the table at the nice restaurant he took her to this idea surprised her by making her wet. One eyebrow of his went up and he reached over to lightly brush his hand over her breasts. “The idea’s getting you hot. Huh, seems I have a little exhibitionist on my hands. But I have another example I’m sure you won’t find pleasant or arousing.” It sounded like a warning that she didn’t want to know this but she wouldn’t interrupt now to keep from hearing the rest. “Some dominants enjoy training their submissives to act as urinals. The slave’s job is to swallow down all her master’s piss whenever he wants her to, or wear it if he wants that instead.”
She shuddered at the thought of being down on her knees in the bathroom, mouth open and ready to take whatever Sylar wanted, even if he wanted to piss in her mouth instead of fuck it. “Ar-are you interested in that?” Claire asked as steadily as she could.
“I’ve considered it, as punishment. There’s something appealing about the idea you’d do even this for me. And that’s why I worry about having you as pure slave - there’s so many ways left to humiliate or torture you and I want to try most of them. Does the idea make you sick?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Would you do it anyway?”
She nodded again. “Yes.”
“And do you really want to sign up for that sort of life, Claire? I’m giving you a free pass out. Even if I do lose it sometimes, even if I can’t keep perfect control, it’d only be occasionally. As my slave you’d be at my mercy every minute of every hour of every day and there’s so, so many ways I can think of to use you.”
She shivered at his second warning but it didn’t change anything for her. Between not really knowing how to be a wife, the risk of his temper getting out of control over completely unpredictable things, and the appeal of knowing that as his good girl Claire only needed to worry about one thing it sounded so much better than trying to act as his wife. Even if he did want to hurt her - she enjoyed the pain, mostly - and maybe piss on or in her as punishment - she’d get over it - it still seemed better than trying to play equals when he outclassed her in power, experience, and brutality.
“I’m yours,” Claire said simply but without any doubt in her voice. “I’m yours to use however you want.”
He sighed just a little and cupped her cheek. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s better this way. We’d just fight if I was allowed to talk back to you and make big decisions and you’d always win the fight. You’re stronger than me. All I can do is bleed all over you.” The last part came out roughly; she hated that the most when she thought about her ability. Everyone else could fight back but all she could do was jump out windows to get away.
“My slave,” Sylar said quietly. It didn’t seem to have a question so she stayed quiet too; he must just be thinking this out. “It’s really not what I intended when I started this, though I should have thought of this possibility. Of course there’d always be the possibility the training would stick too well to get it out of your head, even with time.” Now he shook his head but, she thought, mostly at himself. “Okay. I can do this. I’ll be your master. Eventually you’ll grow out of it, I’m sure, even if it takes a while. It’s not like we don’t have the time.” Now he smiled and she smiled back, shifting to push her breasts out for his attention.
The ache kept getting bigger, getting her wetter, and she knew wearing these all the time would be a slow torture to keep her aroused from the pain all the time. Her obvious ploy to get him touching her breasts made him chuckle and he slowly ran his fingers down the sides of each of them.
“I still want you to use your safe word if the pain gets too much. If you aren’t getting aroused by the pain anymore, just hurt, you’re to use the safe word. Same thing if this reminds you of, of what I did to you after your miscarriage. Tell me you understand.”
She licked her lips. “I understand, Sylar.” Because he ordered it she’d do exactly as told if he crossed a line, but she didn’t worry so much about him crossing that line tonight. His self-control worked most of the time; it only really failed when he got mad and lashed out and he’d already told her he didn’t feel mad tonight.
“Good Girl.” He ruffled her hair. “I love how my name sounds when you say it but for the video you have permission to call me Master.” Like she’d done before for the first video. Would he make her read the comments again this time? “Since you didn’t I’m going to go get some tools now. Just lie down and - Play with your clit but not enough to come. You orgasm only when I tell you to.” With his empathic ability he’d know exactly when to tell her she could come. For now she did as told, starting on the outer lips of her pussy and hoping he’d be quick. He reached down and put one of her hands on her clit. “I didn’t say cunt, I said clit.” Her stomach tightened as she touched the little nub and tugged on the piercing.
Her legs shook by the time he came back and she wanted to come, even from the slow, light strokes she’d been using to try to keep away a forbidden orgasm. She wanted to come enough that as soon as he dropped his tools down on the bed next to her she tried, “Please, Sylar, can I come now?” The video hadn’t started yet so she still called him by his name, the way he liked.
He couldn’t keep her teasing herself like this, soon he’d either need to let her come or give her permission to stop touching her oversensitive clit. Or she’d have to do one or the other without permission. “No, but you may stop touching yourself and stand at the end of the bed, facing away from it.”
She yanked her hand away immediately as little shakes still ran through her muscles all the way down to her toes. As soon as they stopped she crawled to the end of the bed and then off so she didn’t have a chance to see the toys he picked out. She found out about the rope soon enough as he tied an end of each rope to the bed posts that held no canopy. At the other end of the rope he made loops big enough for her hands to go in before they tightened and, sure enough, he ordered her to wrap her hands around the loops. Sylar put them just high enough that, if she spread her legs like he’d want she needed to go on her tiptoes to grab the rope. She did that and tugged on each loop but neither tightened. “Just holds?”
“Yes. Holds to keep you in the position I want. I know you have the will power to stay where I put you.” When she’d thought of the same thing earlier this hadn’t been the position she pictured. Soon standing like this would make her toes ache.
He went back to grab another tool - two tools even, one being a long but thin steel link chain and the other nipple clamps. Not the nicer type of nipple clamps either because these had little, sharp metal teeth that could make the current bite band around the peak of her breasts seem like nothing. With her sensitive nipples she knew it’d hurt a lot. He probably wanted it that way and she stayed silent while he attached one end of the chain to each of her barbell nipple piercings. The chain dangled down to just below her belly button, tapping the skin there as it swung a little. The extra weight of the chain tugged her nipples down a little, forcing the underside to press harder into the band’s sharp points.
When he pinched one slightly swollen lip of her sex she froze in horrible anticipation before the clamp’s hard teeth grazed both the protective outside and the super sensitive inside. He let go. Tthe clamp tightened, shoving those points deep into her skin. Claire jerked from the pain and bit her lip to keep her whine down at the sudden, intense bite but it still came out in a quiet hiss. As he moved the second clamp into position on her other side of her pussy a whimper escaped and her whole body tensed. She held onto the ropes hard enough her knuckles went white as the useless shake she did trying to escape the pain knocked her off her toes. Her sex clenched and unclenched over and over, trying to get used to the clamps.
The pain settled down some into a deep ache after what felt like forever and she noticed the tug on them for the first time. When putting them on her Sylar looped the short chain connecting the clamps with the chain dangling from her nipples and the ring in her clit piercing. And the chains seemed too short, making everything tug twice as hard as the metal went taunt with pressure. He flicked his finger directly on her clit, jolting all the chains in the process, and she clenched for a whole other reason than pain.
A bit of liquid snaked down the inside of her thigh and he gathered it up, sucking it off his finger with a smirk. “I’m turning on the camera now,” he told her as she saw the little red light flashed on before he moved her way and stroked her hair away from her face. “Good Girl.”
Claire managed a small smile through the pain and arousal because he’d called her that but then she saw what he held in his other hand. He lifted up the thin, long cane just then, eyeing her different parts as if deciding what to do first. With the chains on the front and the bed at her back, protecting her ass, she couldn’t figure out where he might hit her. Not long after that he made a decision and lined up the cane carefully, every movement deliberate, slow, and making her more and more nervous. It came down with a quiet whoosh right across her breasts, hitting the primed tips of her nipples where no piercings or chains protected them. Her body went hard with pain, clenching as it radiated out from the impact point, and she whined through clenched teeth as she threw her head back when the second wave of pain hit. Then the healing finished the pain off, returning her to just as good as before and more scared of the cane than she had been.
When he lined up another stroke she screwed her eyes shut, clenched her teeth again to keep from biting her tongue, and waited. She didn’t wait long as the cane whistled before striking the round top of her breasts. This time she only shuddered silently as the welt ached and stung and, finally, healed. She’d started panting, sweat beading her hair line but didn’t open her eyes.
The next strike came as a complete surprise. It landed straight across on her upper, sensitive thighs and hit the chain connected to her clit ring and the clamps too. The clamps jerked, dragging a choked cry out of her. Her clit sent signals all through her body, turning the already fading pain into the right type of pleasure, and she whimpered while opening her eyes. He watched her so intently, a bulge in the front of his pants as she panted and whimpered, that she shivered a little and did her best to push her body out toward him to give him the best targets. He smiled at her, “That’s my princess, being such a good girl without even needing orders.” His hand trailed down between her breasts, all the way down to her wet sex where Sylar shoved two fingers all the way in.
She gasped and her sex clenched. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be allowed to orgasm soon. “Thank you, Master.”
He tossed the cane on the ground and cupped her cheek with his now empty hand before leaning in for a kiss. His other hand thrust in and out of her so she moaned into his mouth when the kiss deepened. “Come?” she whispered before he pulled away. The small shake of his head took that hope away as he circled behind her for yet another tool.
Only the crack of the whip warned Claire of the coming strike across her shoulder blades. It stung like a little line of fire but healed before she even could breathe in-and-out to take the pain in. Breathing evenly and slowly made it easier to take so she kept doing it. It helped when a second strike, a little bit lower than the first, ran across her back. It helped when a third landed just an inch lower than that. As soon as the latest whip mark healed he struck again, over and over all the way down her back. From this angle the camera couldn’t see the welts fade away but it had perfect view of her shuddering, spasming body as she took each strike of the whip in clenched teeth silence and moaned at how Sylar thrust his fingers into her ready cunt while she healed. Hit, thrust, moan, heal - it happened maybe a dozen times and by the last she rocked back into both the hit and his teasing thrust. Then he circled back around to her front just in range of the camera without blocking her from view, she thought, without the whip.
“Open.” She tried to spread her legs even more but only managed to rock off her straining toes again and he laughed quietly, right against her ear. “Your mouth, princess.”
Oh. She did it, opening her mouth wide, and he shoved the fingers wet from her pussy in all the way. The tangy taste of her primed sex coated her tongue as she sucked and licked his fingers clean. When he pulled them out she kept her mouth open, waiting for what came next. The ball gag surprised her as he shoved the spongy ball between her teeth and secured the straps tight enough to dig into the corners of her mouth.
Then Sylar patted her head with a smile. “Princess can get loud when getting fucked so today I’m going to gag her.” The promise of fucking made her forget her annoyance at the gag and she nodded emphatically, hoping he’d fuck her right now. “Let go of the rope, princess.” Order given he started to walk away to one of the cubby shelves to get another toy. Letting go of the rope dropped her back down onto the soles of her feet and her toes and, after having the nerves there compressed for so long, they ached fiercely as blood flowed back in. When he took off the clamps the same thing would happen and Claire knew she’d scream then whether she wanted to or not. She waited, hands at her side and legs spread, only partially so that the two clamps couldn’t knock into each other. Finally he came back storing something on the bed before moving back where she could see him. She smiled enthusiastically and tried to arch her sex out in hopes he’d finger it or fuck it or both but he ignored her plaintive stare and only patted her sex. “Get up on your hands and knees facing the head board, princess. I want to fuck you from behind. You’re as desperate as a cat in heat so it seems appropriate.”
In heat. God, yes. Claire felt exactly like that, enough she had to wonder if he’d somehow given her a high dose of the aphrodisiac he liked her to take and whether she really cared if he did. She wanted relief so bad she hurried up on the bed even though it jangled the chains painfully and drew a groan out of her. As she panted new streaks of pain ran up and down her body, making her clench . Her pussy clenched last and just that little movement set the clamps off again bad enough she whined. With the ball gag in she couldn’t even ask him to block the pain for her when he finally removed the clamps completely. Instead of talking she tried to communicate with her body, rocking her bottom toward where Sylar stood at the end of the bed. He laughed and gave it a slap.
Then he climbed up behind her, now naked with his long, hard cock pressing up between her ass cheeks but he didn’t fuck her then either. He leaned over, covering her whole body with his until his mouth came just about even with her ear, and he said, “I want to make you cry tonight, babydoll. I’m going to, I promise you that. If you come before I do you will dearly, dearly regret it and they’ll get a very entertaining video of you being punished for disobedience.”
Oh, god. Claire shivered at the calm way he told her the rule and that punishment would follow, more because she couldn’t stop from coming if he really wanted to make her. It could be a trick rule where she had no way to win, done for his amusement and because of his mood. Behind the gag she tried to say “Yes, Sylar” but it came out mumbled and distorted. He kissed her cheek so she thought he understood what she meant to say.
As he pulled back she watched him grab the toy he’d taken just a few minutes ago and realized he held a full-size, realistic dildo in his hand. Did he want her to suck him off instead? Hadn’t he said he planned to fuck her from behind?
Sylar’s weight shifted on the bed and the hard heat of his cock pulled away. She held very still to keep the chains still too as she felt the round head of the cool dildo touch the entrance to her sex. He slid the dildo in without trouble as wet as she already was and thrust it a few times until she moaned from it. Then he rubbed her back gently as he slid back into place. She only realized what he meant to do when his cock head rubbed against her small asshole and she wanted to jerk away from the strange invasion. He’d only fucked her, or had a dildo fuck her, in her ass the one time and it’d felt strange and a little painful.
But Claire didn’t jerk or crawl or turn away from his cock; she bunched her hands in the comforter and tried very hard to relax. When she did he rewarded her by moving the dildo in and out slowly. Soon the slow rhythm of the dildo fucking her lured her into relaxing completely. Once she forgot about the chains and rocked back into the thick faux dick but the pain quickly reminded her to stay still. So when her husband’s - and master’s - large, dry cock tried to push through her asshole to get inside of her she forced herself to keep very still. She couldn’t even ask for lube, not that she thought he just forgot it. He must want to fuck her dry. The entire area felt both torn and full even though dry he only managed to get just the tip into her before he groaned and muttered ‘too tight’. The dildo got yanked out of her and replaced by a warm, human cock. His hands went to her hips and he fucked her hard, fast, building her up to an orgasm she couldn’t have because she hadn’t cried. Then, after one last deep thrust, he filled her up with the dildo again and went back to her ass.
She waited and forced herself to relax her thighs, ass, and pussy again. His toy slipped into her even more easily now that she opened up more and he used the chance to speed up the thrusts to something past teasing without being fast. Then he pressed the tip of his cock back up against her hole and the need to orgasm fled from her worry. The last time he did this he stopped after just putting the head in, like he only did it to prove he could. Maybe he planned that again, on tape this time. She closed her eyes, locking her arms to keep from rocking with the jerky thrusts from the dildo, and breathe slowly. Sylar started rubbing her back again. He parted her cheeks with his other hand but pulled that hand back suddenly until he pushed it between them to run his finger slowly around the rim of her asshole. Small and vulnerable she held her breath when the pressure began, growing harder and harder until finally, with a rip that made it sting, he had the head inside of her. This time he stayed and rocked his hips slowly as each soft movement pushed him farther inside. It pushed her forward too, shaking the chains that clinked together in the otherwise near silent room. Each shake tugged at either her pussy lips or her clit and sometimes both until the rhythm got her mixing pain with pleasure with pain and back again. It hurt, she hurt, but the jerking at her clit, the dildo rubbing up against the walls of her pussy, even the fullness of having both her ass and pussy fucked at the same time filled her with pleasurable jolts, shivers, and throbbing aches until her brain shut down to just the pain, the pleasure, and the feel of her husband rubbing her back as he fucked her.
But she still couldn’t come. And the fucking was bringing her so close, so close she didn’t know how to stop it, didn’t know if she could stop it. “Come? Come, please? Please?” came out in moans of sounds instead of words. She’d get punished for sure.
Then the hand he’d put on her hip for balance reached around to the front of her, rubbing her clit first until she clenched and tried to think of anything that might kill the pleasure she felt. Nothing came to her scattered mind. At first Claire didn’t notice his hand moving further down to feel out the clamp on the left side. Without warning the clamp came off and she jerked forward, away from his hand, as she keened through the gag and collapsed onto her elbows.
She stayed there while she healed, only a few seconds that felt like eternity, then her head dropped down between her arms as she forced herself to push back into position. This time she trembled a little and not because he’d gone back to playing with her clit.
This time the hand rubbing her back reached around as he still tugged on, rubbed on, and pinched her clit between his strong fingers. This time she braced for the pain. Even when he pinched her clit at just the right time and pleasure ran through her blood the clamp coming off still made her give a choked scream as blood rushed back into sensitive spaces. She coughed, shaking and breathing hard, while he kept the pressure up steadily: his hand on her clit, the dildo in her cunt, and his cock in her ass all tempted her to burst but she still hadn’t cried.
Soon Claire wouldn’t have a choice but to come and however he punished her she’d cry then no doubt. Then his fingers pulled away and his own pace, if not the one in her sex, slowed. “As much as I’m enjoying your ass I think I’m in the mood for your mouth.” He pulled out with a pop and her ass tingled, then tightened, completely healed from the rips he’d done. When the gag loosened the sides of her mouth did the same thing before she spit the spongy ball out.
His hands circled her middle and turned her around like a ragdoll and it was then she realized he wanted her to suck him off now. Like he was. When he’d just been… “I’ll go get a washcloth to clean you, Master.” She started to crawl toward the side of the bed to get off but his hand, and invisible kinesis, held her still.
“No, you can clean me.” So casual. So… icky. And Claire knew he only did this to prove he could to her if she really wanted an owner instead of a husband. She’d expected retaliation but not this sort of use of her ass for sure.
Crawling back into position brought her face even to his cock, which looked clean at least and still completely hard. “Do you want to fuck me, Master?” He’d know she meant her mouth. When the answer didn’t come immediately she glanced up and he shook his head.
Steeling her nerves she did the only thing she could and lightly licked the end of his hard cock. No bad taste hit her yet and she breathed a sigh of relief while swirling her tongue around the head. Next she licked the shaft, short, gentle licks all the way down and all the way up until she’d licked every bit of his cock and balls. Sylar started groaning half way through and absently playing with her hair at three-fourths. With every bit licked she still didn’t taste anything stranger than the tangy-salty-weird flavor of pre-cum, the sour-salty sweat that dripped down from his lower stomach, and the normal taste of his skin. It gave her the courage to take the head in her mouth, careful of her teeth, and bob her head down.
At first she stayed with shallow movements, taking only an inch or two into her mouth as she sucked the head of his cock and let go and sucked again while pre-cum drizzled out of the end. When his groans turned from short grunts and gasps to near growls Claire pushed harder, sucking three inches in until his cock hit the back of her mouth. She licked and made little noises that vibrated just like he liked and started bobbing up-down, up-down as fast and as deep as she could without choking. His fingers clutched tightly, grabbing her hair. It hurt every time she went down but she ignored it. Instead she focused keeping her teeth away and not choking and the way he’d moved his foot to rub his toes against her sex. She wasn’t allowed to come yet but it still felt nice. When Sylar started jerking his hips every few times she pulled back up she went down further, all the way down until her nose rested in the black bush of hair at the base of his cock and his cock head pushed into her throat.
Like always, it didn’t trigger a gag reflex she didn’t seem to have. She could throw up - she’d done it before, even after getting her ability - but losing the gag reflex was just another one of the strange things her body was capable of now.
His foot pressed harder now, toenails digging into her sensitive clit and all around it, but he was beyond noticing. He always was when they got this far. A second later he started to flex his thighs and it rocked his hips, giving him the push he needed to sink deeper into her mouth. She tried to suck still and not focus on the growing burn for air. Luckily it didn’t take long before he groaned, mumbling, “Fuck, babydoll. Good girl, good girl,” as he spent himself in her mouth. He added, “Don’t swallow,” when he pulled out. “Show the camera first.”
Her cheeks heated but she crawled closer to the end of the bed and opened her mouth obediently, so that the camera - and eventual audience - would see his come and her following his order. After a few seconds she turned back to him, mouth still a little bit open, and he nodded. She turned back to the camera and swallowed.
When she turned a second time he grabbed her collar and pulled her forward using it, smiling. “I really thought the clamps would make you cry,” he told her as he ran the back of his hand along her cheek. “I suppose I’m just going to have to be more creative.”
Claire could have cursed herself right then. She hadn’t wanted to cry too easy and now he planned to keep hurting her without letting her come until she did cry. When she’d volunteered to be his punching bag to help him get through all the stress of the last few days she thought it’d come with lots of orgasms. “Please, let me come?” she said it quietly, not begging, not trying to emotionally blackmail him into it, just as a statement of what she wanted right then. She wanted to come. Badly.
He reached down and twisted one of her nipples hard enough she gasped at the sudden shock of pain-pleasure. It only made her want to come more. “I’m tempted but, no. Not until you’re crying. It really is hotter for me that way.”
She nodded silently and waited for him to decide on the next ‘game’. When he sat up completely instead of leaning back, he rubbed a hand over the ribbon corset he’d marked her with. The rings didn’t move, of course, fused as they were by her healed skin but he could tug on the ribbon to move that skin. Sylar did that now. “I wonder if these are strong enough to suspend you by.”
Her breathing went shallow and slow, as if by barely breathing she could disappear. The idea of her skin being pulled down by her full weight sounded about as fun as a porcupine to the cunt. “M-Maybe?”
“Probably not.” He sighed. “Experiment for another day. I don’t want you too injured to keep amusing me.” From the soft look he actually gave her she knew he mostly said it that way for the camera. Especially since he couldn’t injure her too much. He did like to put on a show. He rubbed a hand over her ribbons again and then reached her ass, smacking it a few times. She took those strikes silently before he got up to go back over to his shelves of gear. Sex gear. He came back with a small chain with a clasp at each end and pushed her into kneeling instead of her hands and knees. Once up Sylar hooked the one end to her clit piercing and the other to the chain still dangling from her nipples; like before the chains went taunt from being just a little short to comfortably reach. When he flicked his finger against the chain she shook. Fuck, she wanted to come.
“Please, Master? I’ll come when I cry too. I always do.” Claire bit into her lip hard while she waited on his answer.
He stared at her with nearly black eyes - his pupils almost entirely dilated - for a long, long time. Without knowing exactly how long she knew at least a full minute passed. Then he grabbed her hair, yanking her head back hard, and said, deliberately, “You really don’t want to come. If you come now you’ll only pay for it with more pain. I’m not in a very merciful or nice mood.”
Claire swallowed and tried to pull her head forward. He slowly let go of her hair. “I know. And I know. I still want to come. Please.”
“So long as you understand.” He shoved his hand between her legs, forcing two fingers inside her feverish sex while his thumb played with her clit. Some of the arousal from before, and the pain that had since healed, had lessened so she didn’t reach the edge immediately. Then she lost it all when he pulled his hand away. No, please no, he couldn’t change his mind. Thankfully, he didn’t. “Lie down with your legs spread wide and over the side of the bed. I’m going to go get some rope.”
What did he need rope for?
After she obeyed he came back with the rope and started to tie it carefully round-and-round her thighs. Four circles on each thigh before he tied it off. Then he tied them to the bed posts, forcing her legs to spread even wider. Like this nothing protected her sensitive sex and even the chain linking her clit and breasts tugged harder. Then she noticed the second item he brought over: a small whip. When he smiled at her she swallowed very hard and stayed very still. She couldn’t smile back convincingly so she didn’t try.
At first he only hit her very softly, slowing picking up strength and speed as she noticed this whip felt different from the other one, like it had something hard and solid at the tips of the whip pieces. The thuds turned to whumps and the whumps to stings as his hand sped up its methodical snapping. Snap went the whip and this time when it hit one of the little things, bead-things, hit her clit. It took the already growing pain to new heights and pleasure struck, making the whole area feel like a live wire.
That didn’t stop Sylar. He even licked his lips when she cried out at the next impact. Harder again, it stung so hard that the bead-like things felt sharp, like they must have sliced into her skin. Everywhere stung and she tried to rock but the ropes wouldn’t let her. “Please, please, please,” she repeated so many times she lost count while the whip hit her swollen pussy until it felt like every touch would make it explode. Or make her explode. “Hurts. Please. Hurts.” Even her chants couldn’t keep Claire from reaching the edge. Something felt damp on her face when she tried closing her eyes and she realized she’d started crying just like he wanted. She could come now.
So she let go, stopped trying to control it. Her back arched while she slammed her hands down on the bed, she panted hard, her heart thudding in her chest even harder, and her thighs strained and then she knew nothing but the blinding, delicious pleasure. It struck again, building releasing, building releasing, one right after another and when she finally, finally, came back to her surroundings she found Sylar buried deep inside her and fucking her fast. He slammed his hips all the way against her, jabbing his cock against the back of her sex in the most pain/pleasure way before pulling out and doing it again. Really fast. Soon he groaned, shoved all the way in again, and came.
When he came back to his senses he leaned over her, still inside her, gave her a kiss and said, “Next time you’ll ask for and wait for permission. Do you understand?” He already started undoing the ties and she waited to answer until he pulled out of her and she could close her legs. Also, scoot up on the bed some more.
Then she nodded sleepily only to remember he liked questions answered out loud, “Yes, Sylar. Can I sleep now?”
“May I,” he corrected automatically. “Yes, you may. I’ll put this up on the site and then join you.”
At the reminder of where the video would go she shivered a little. “Are you going to make me look at the comments again?”
He smirked. “Of course I am. Your embarrassment is part of the fun for me.” Something must have shown on her face because he added, “Be glad I’m not taking you to play parties and making you perform on stage in front of a live audience.” A pause. “Yet. But maybe I will, in a few months or a year.”
Claire closed her eyes so those wouldn’t betray the total fear and nausea that rolled through her, then turned on her side to sleep. He could feel it anyway, she knew, but maybe if he thought she needed rest so badly he wouldn’t press her reaction right now.
Surprisingly, he didn’t. Instead Sylar kissed her temple and smoothed back her hair. “I love you, Claire.” She heard him move the camera around and then she heard nothing, already asleep.
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