Schism

Hello friends. This is part two of a three part story which is nearly complete.

Warning: This story contains non-consent/reluctance and bdsm content.

The story: Dane identifies as straight, but has dissociative identity disorder, with his alter, Edan, forcing him into servicing men for its amusement.

In this episode, Dane discovers Edan's ulterior motive for bringing him to Malcolm, and Malcolm gets Dane ready to share with his friends.

Tags:

#bdsm, #reluctance, #non consent, #bondage, #slavery, #control, #dominance and submission, #horror, #coming out, #first time, #anal virgin

Shout out to Holliday1960 for beta reading and feedback.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As I looked up at the man I'd just sucked off, I'd never felt so physically uneasy. If you'd asked me if I'd ever let someone put me on my knees and force me into servicing their cock, I'd have given you a disgusted 'fuck off'. Even while I knew that was exactly what Edan, my dissociative identity disorder alter, loved best.

But this was me, here, in this cold and frankly terrifying BDSM dungeon full of equipment and objects clearly meant to be put inside arseholes like mine—and Malcolm was a stranger who'd just cum in my mouth. I could still taste it, felt it coating my tongue. I was also pretty sure I was wearing his cum on my face, and possibly other fluids that I didn't want to think about.

My hands were tied behind my back, I was gagged with my mouth stretched open like some sideshow clown waiting for a ping-pong ball, and what was really fucking with my mind was how hard I was, despite being fucking terrified of what he was going to do to me next.

Malcolm alone couldn't have forced me into this. Only Edan had that power. If I was anyone's bitch it was his, since he had me by the balls. And by every other part of my body.

Malcolm put a hand under my arm and pulled me to my feet. He undid the device keeping my mouth open and took it off.

I stretched my aching jaw and tried to speak, but Edan made sure nothing came out.

"You're doing well," said Malcolm. "Keep it up and we'll both have a good night."

"Thank you," Edan simpered on my behalf, casting his eyes down.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Who am I speaking to now?"

"Dane," said Edan. Realising he was about to be sprung, he mimicked my voice perfectly. "I'm just a bit nervous."

Malcolm smiled and ran a hand through my hair. "Perhaps I was too rough with you before. You're clearly new to all this. I must admit, it's a novel approach, having yourself hypnotised so that you can unleash your inner masochist."

Oh Jesus fucking fuck fuck!

'Do you want your vocal chords back?'

Edan teased me.

'Yes!'

I suddenly had control of my larynx.

"I don't want to do this," I said desperately to Malcolm. "I don't want any of it. Please let me go, I'll do anything you want, anything, just please don't..."

I trailed off, as Malcolm gave me an indulgent smile. He wasn't moved by my pleading at all. No, instead, he was fondling himself while I begged him to let me go.

"I've never met another boy who could shift between perfect submissiveness, abject fear, and slutty abandon like this," He put a hand to my jaw, slowly tilting my head left, then right, his eyes fixed to mine as he continued to stroke himself.

"I'm not sure you'd make a good slave. A good slave boy is a natural submissive. Something in you... is not."

Me

, I thought.

That would be me.

Edan kept me still as Malcolm manipulated my head towards the light and away from it again, looking for something—fuck knows what.

He dropped his hand to my shoulder. "But I promised some very good friends a night of fun, and I think you'll be able to manage that. We still have an hour to get you into the right frame of mind. Are you going to be good for me? Or do I need to punish you again?"

Punish me? Again??

'You should have heard yourself moaning while he beat you,'

said Edan, his voice loaded with amusement.

'He finds it very arousing. Encourages him to go harder.'

Oh Jesus Christ.

There was no way out. My hands were still bound behind my back, and while I could speak, what could I say to get him to let me go? This man thought any resistance I gave him was part of some elaborate act I used to get myself off. He had me on video agreeing to anything he might do here to me tonight, and only he and Edan knew what I'd agreed to in writing. I was utterly fucked.

'Oh, come on, Dane. You're no one's bitch! You've told me that over and over again. So nut him in the face and overpower him! Run out of his house naked, with your hands bound behind your back, and your willy flopping about, screaming for help! You can do it! I believe in you!'

He sniggered as he projected an image of me doing just that, into my mind's eye. It wasn't overly dignified.

"Well?" said Malcolm. "How much force do I need to use on you?"

I shook my head, swallowing around a lump in my throat, and whispered, "Don't do this."

"I can't hear you."

I raised my eyes. And my voice.

"Don't you dare fucking touch me." My voice was choked, and not very convincing.

A dark smile spread across his face. "I see more correction's in order."

He grabbed my arm and led me towards a piece of equipment that looked like a weirdly shaped, padded exercise bench.

I struggled against him. "No, no, no!"

I wrenched out of his grip and stumbled towards the stairs.

Time slipped.

I came back to find myself fastened to the bench. My hands were cuffed in front of me, with the upper part of the bench supporting my chest, while my ankles were attached to the lower part, keeping me on my hands and knees. My arse was on fire, and the indignity of waking up to find I'd been beaten threw me into a rage.

"Let me up now! Get me off here!"

I tugged desperately at the handcuffs, but froze when I heard a soft

thwack, thwack, thwack

. Malcolm came back into view carrying a leather strap, slapping it against his thigh as he positioned himself at my head.

I looked up at him. "Please, let me go!"

He gave me a quizzical look. "So, it's Edan who loves pain, and Dane who's afraid of everything."

He crouched so that we were eye to eye. "Where do you go, when he's in control?"

"You know, then," I said hoarsely. "You know everything."

He put a hand on my head, stroking his fingers through my hair as he spoke. "You're not the first boy I've met who can't reconcile what he wants with who he thinks he is."

"Please," I said, weaker this time.

He laughed and straightened up.

"Why won't you let me go?" I asked. I sounded truly pathetic.

"Because, my boy, what your alter hasn't told you, is that you've sold yourself for the night. And since that money's already in your bank account, and you've consented to everything I could possibly want, whatever goes on in that damaged head of yours isn't my concern."

'EDAN!'

There was sniggering from the dark.

'Be careful,'

said Edan.

'If you aren't the compliant little sex slave I sold him, he's likely to punish you in ways that'll break you permanently. He's insisted that if you gob off again, I'm to make sure you're present for any corrective action he has to take.'

"Oh God, please no, please..." I broke off into incomprehensible, snivelling syllables.

Malcolm took pity on me. "Do you remember your safe word?"

I shouted into the dark.

'Edan! What the fuck is my safe word?'

'Oh, settle down,'

he said.

'It's Simak.'

I had no idea where that word had come from, or what it meant to him, but who cared?

"Simak!" I said. "Simak!"

Malcolm crouched again. "Good. Now, let me make this clear. You've sold yourself for a princely sum of money, as a nineteen-year old, straight anal virgin, in need of breaking in. Now, if your sadist alter can't take pain at some point, you can use your safe word and I'll ease off. I won't stop, but I will go easier on you. But if you throw out your safe word when you're clearly fine, we're going to have a problem."

I was sure that wasn't how BDSM worked. He had to stop if I said 'stop', didn't he?

'Not if he's paid for you.'

"I'll give you back your money!" I said. Although, even as I said it, I grew curious as to how much it was. I desperately needed money. My job barely paid the rent, and I was always borrowing off my parents for things like food and petrol. And weed (not that I told them that).

Edan chuckled.

'It's two thousand pounds,'

he whispered.

'Whoooore.'

Malcolm gripped a handful of my hair and wrenched my head up so I had to meet his gaze. "If you hadn't covered off all these conversations so completely in your emails, I'd almost be convinced you wanted me to stop."

"Please stop," I whispered. "Please, I can't do this."

He studied my face, the muscles at the corners of his eyes tightening as he tried to decide if I was serious or not. Eventually he grunted and let go of my hair. He stepped away behind me again, and started to fondle my arse with one hand—my arse which was still smarting from whatever punishment he'd meted out before Edan let me back up.

"What are you doing?" I asked, glancing back over my shoulder.

"What we agreed we'd do if you kept whining. But don't worry. As near as I can tell, you're enjoying yourself. I haven't seen your dick go limp yet, and if you were as afraid as you say you are, you'd be shrivelled up, not leaking precum all over my equipment. You'll be cleaning that up when we're done, by the way."

I closed my eyes, sucking down my humiliation. But he was right. I was hard as a rock... and part of me was curious to see why Edan liked pain so much. To understand what he got out of it.

I jumped as the leather strap flicked across my exposed arse. It was just a lick of leather, but it stung like fuck, and I couldn't help crying out.

Malcolm said calmly, "We'll keep going until you learn to take it without whining."

He massaged my sore arse.

"Don't touch me!"

"You're not a fast learner, are you, boy?"

The strap hit my arse again. This time, all he choked out of me was a whimper of pain. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it fucking stung.

He alternated between torturing and fondling me, and I took his beating with barely a flinch by imagining I was with my girlfriend. I hung my head and imagined eating out my girlfriend, burying my head between her thighs, sliding my tongue up and down her slit, inhaling her, tasting her. Imagined licking her into a frenzy, feeling her thighs shudder under my hands—

Edan punched the image out of my mind.

'Don't you dare!'

Malcolm gave me one last hard slap with the leather strap, and rested a hand against the small of my back. "Dane?"

"Yes," I said, my voice broken and miserable.

"You can relax. You've done well."

He set the strap to one side and fetched a bottle of lotion. He directed a squirt of it against the upper part of my arse, and as it hit and pooled there, the sensation felt oddly familiar.

'Imagine it warm,'

Edan gloated, and I shuddered.

Malcolm snapped the bottle shut and started to massage the lotion into my arse.

I relaxed under his hands. It felt nice—still odd, being handled by a stranger, but better than being smacked with a leather strap.

He ran a finger down to the plug, still lodged in my arse, and took hold of it. I tensed, terrified of what he was coming, and he slapped my arse.

"Relax. Enjoy yourself."

Sure. I'd enjoy myself because I'd been told to.

He fucked me slowly with the plug, forcing noises of fear from my throat, and he chuckled.

"Feels nice, doesn't it?"

It did, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

And then the pressure of the plug against my hole started to grow as he started to slide it out.

I hadn't been there when Edan had inserted it, and having it removed was like riding a rollercoaster, being at the crest of the first hill, looking down, waiting for the acceleration to hit your stomach.

"Please, please, don't, please—"

The uncomfortable stretching stopped, as he let the plug sink back into my arse.

I was relieved; but at the same time, I knew he wasn't going to let me off the hook and leave it in. The thing was—what if I wasn't clean? What if, when he took it out, I made a mess?

'Oh, don't worry, I had you tucked away while I cleaned you out,'

said Edan.

'Having you present would have given the game away. But other than some sweat and lotion, you're clean enough to eat from!'

Malcolm stroked a hand down my spine, and my back arched involuntarily under his touch.

"Relax boy."

He took hold of the plug again.

I couldn't stop myself tensing as my arse stretched wide over the neck of the plug—and then the worst was over. He eased it the rest of the way out of me and put it to one side, and I clenched at the odd emptiness. How long had Edan been making me wear plugs, that it felt more natural being full, then empty?

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Malcolm patted my arse.

He kneaded my buttocks, cupping and squeezing, and I was sure it was more to remind me that I couldn't stop him, than to give me any kind of pleasure. Although... it did feel nice.

Then his thumbs started to brush the inside of the crease between them. There was no denying I was getting even more turned on, having him handle me like this, especially after the pain of being beaten.

He ran one hand down my crack so that his fingers brushed lightly against my hole, and then went back to massaging my arse.

The fingers kneading my buttocks began to brush across my hole, stroke after stroke, and soon a lotion-slicked finger was circling my entrance.

"Don't worry," said Malcolm. "You'll enjoy this. I've never met a boy, straight or gay, who didn't enjoy having his arsehole fingered."

I didn't doubt he was right. And that was what scared me.

The circling finger stopped moving, and pressed against the tense centre of my tightened sphincter.

'I can make this easier,'

said Edan.

'If you ask nicely.'

As Malcolm applied pressure steadily, the alien sensation of being breached made me whimper again.

'Da-aaane? You have to ask nicely.'

The pressure from Malcolm's finger increased.

'Alright, alright, please help me!'

Just like that, I relaxed, and Malcolm's finger slid smoothly inside.

"Hoooohh, fuck," I said under my breath.

'See how nice that feels?'

Edan asked.

'You'll thank me for this one day.'

Malcolm's finger moved inside me while he massaged my arse with his other hand.

'And you'll thank me for this, too.'

Edan pulled back, and I immediately clamped down around Malcolm's finger.

"Excellent," he said. "This really is your first time, isn't it? If you do well tonight, I may decide to keep you."

I shuddered uncontrollably, while Edan nuzzled against the inside of my mind.

'Think about it, Dane,'

His voice was full of longing.

'Imagine being forced into permanent service. You'd have no sense of yourself. You'd be lost to the world. You might never come back.'

While he didn't have a physical shape, the way he spoke gave me an image of him rolling around in his fantasy like a dog itching its back on grass, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

I wasn't sure which frightened me more; his fantasy, or that he was part of me.

Malcolm's finger slid out of me and went back to circling in lazy circles, leaving me desperate to have him inside me again.

He teased me mercilessly, pressing against the centre then releasing the pressure, until I started pushing back against him, urging him inside. I wanted it, wanted him back inside me.

"Good boy," he said softly, and he gave me what I wanted, and slid his finger in deep. I moaned and gave into it, and soon the first was joined by a second finger.

After being stretched out by the plug, it wasn't that uncomfortable, but it was impossible not to clamp around his fingers. His fingers weren't static like the plug, and every time he pushed them apart to open me up, I gave a nervous sob of fear.

'Why are you so afraid?'

Edan said.

'Do you really think he's going to hurt you?'

No, I didn't get that sense from him. He just wanted to use my body in any way he saw fit.

'So let him,'

said Edan.

'Let. Him.'

Malcolm's fingers kept moving inside me, and I did my best to relax.

"Good boy," he murmured. "That's the way."

He kept working my arsehole, and then lowered his mouth to my arse.

I yelped as he bit me, a sharp pain lancing through my left arse cheek. I yelled out again as he bit the right one, and he pulled his fingers out of me, and wiped them on a towel he had handy.

"Right, let's get you on your back."

He was going to fuck me. Oh Christ, he was going to fuck me.

I started to slip away from what was happening, but Edan snapped alert the moment I tried to hide, and hauled me back.

'Oh no, Dane—this, you're here for.'

I found my voice as Malcolm started to uncuff my hands from the bench.

"Please, not like this."

He gave me a considering look. "Do you mean that?"

Edan took over. "Quester."

"You really want to call in your one free-pass for this?"

I had no idea what he meant, and I didn't care.

"Please," I said. "I'll do what you want, but don't fuck me like this."

He sighed through his nose. "Alright then." He undid my hands and pulled me to my feet. "It's not what we agreed, but if you have another idea and it amuses me, I'll indulge you. What do you have in mind?"

What

did

I have in mind?

Edan had the answer. He seized control of my body. His arms hung at his sides, and he lowered his head submissively as he looked up at Malcolm, his eyes as wide and innocent as possible.

"Please do it upstairs. In front of the others. I want them to watch."

I did not want them to watch!

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Edan, you're not as good an actor as you think you are."

Edan gave him a sheepish smile. "You got me. But please, he's squeamish about the dungeon. Fuck him any way you want, but pat his head, make him feel like a real boy."

I cringed at everything Edan was saying, but he wasn't wrong when it came to being fucked in a dungeon. That I was going to get fucked in the arse one way or another was just a given at this point, and I was as excited as I was afraid of the idea. But if it had to happen, down here, strapped to a bench—wasn't how I wanted my first time to go.

Malcolm pointed to the bench, which was smeared with clear, viscous fluid.

"Get it clean, and I'll consider it."

Edan walked over to the bench and knelt by it so that he was facing Malcolm.

Malcolm watched, amused, as Edan lapped my precum up off the bench, nuzzling at it, spreading it even further with his closed lips as he kissed the vinyl, finishing by licking every inch of the surface clean. When he was done, he rested his elbows on the bench and propped his chin on his clasped hands, a smouldering sexuality in his eyes.

Malcolm stalked back to me and hauled me to my feet.

"Very good. But drop the slut act, Edan. That's not what we're paying you for."

Edan pouted. "But he hates it. It makes him twitch."

Malcolm gave him an indulgent smile. "You're a very disturbed individual."

He fetched some leather restraints from a bench and pulled my hands behind my back, locking them in place.

Edan glanced back at the restraints. "So, what now?"

"Now, you give me back Dane, and I'll take him upstairs. Don't worry. I'll take good care of him."

Edan gave him a long look. I'd never thought of him, at any point in our history, as a protector. But in that moment, that was exactly what he was. He'd had his fun, he'd enjoyed torturing me. He was getting his fantasies fed. But he didn't want anything to happen to me that'd push me beyond my endurance.