What You Became

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to a new friend of mine, someone that has shown me a very different side of the erotic world. It's a little different than the stories I normally write, so fans of my previous work should take note, this is quite a bit darker and touches on some different stuff. It has non-consent so if you're not into that you've been warned. Check out the tags first to see if you are interested. Hope you all enjoy and be sure to leave a comment :)

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You're on your way to a speed dating event, something you swore you would never do, but your friends somehow convinced you to after a few drinks last week. They have already paid the entry fee and signed up with your name, so you can't very well back out. You are hesitant at first, you had come out of a bad relationship and you weren't sure if you were ready yet. But who is really sure anyways? You think to yourself, eventually summoning up the courage to take the metro downtown on a soggy Friday night.

The location wasn't hard to find, though it wasn't in the most respectable of neighbourhoods, television sounds stream loudly from open windows, vagabonds sit on the sidewalks asking for change, and you've seen a long tailed creature scamper across your dark path more than once. You turn into the alley, and head toward stone steps leading down. It is drizzling out, and you shiver in the dampness of the spring night. You look at the closed steel door, emblazoned with graffiti, finally finding the old fashioned knocker on the side. It lands with a solid thud, and the door flings almost immediately. You jump back as a bald headed, muscular man peers out. He is riddled in tattoos and piercings, and has a hostile expression on his face. You must look out of place in your sensible shoes, long dress pants and light pink blouse, and under his scrutinizing gaze you pull out the business card from your pocket. "Um- is this club Eros?"

To your surprise he breaks out into a smile, though it isn't a very nice one, it's more like a cruel smirk. "The event is in the room to your left. Get going, girl." He stands aside, letting you in, not even bothering to hide the fact that he is checking out your ass. You walk quickly by him and into the club. Heavy red curtains obscure the rest of the club, the heavy bass resonates in your fingers and chest, a slow and sexy beat. You walk a little taller, though at the same speed, the hallway is dimly lit with red lights, it's not very smart, someone could stub their toe here.

You thought you were early to the event, but the room is already full, chatter fills the room, an excited energy. You barely have time to look at the people before someone grabs your arm. The woman, most likely the hostess, demands your name. Once you give it she scribbles it haphazardly onto a sticker, peeling it off and sticking it onto your breast. Yeesh, and she didn't even buy you dinner.

Now you take the time to look around, it's quite a nice room, the lights in the room are basins with stones, casting multi-colored light down onto the tablecloths of the two seat tables. You don't even hear the hostess announcing everyone to find a seat, but get the hint when everyone starts hurrying towards the seats, and you rush towards it like it's musical chairs.

"Hello." The older gentleman sitting across from you is dressed nicely in a black suit, his dark hair is nicely combed, and he has the deepest blue eyes you have ever seen. He has a silver dragon piercing in his left ear. You two speak for a while, his name is John and he is a lawyer, and he works mainly with families, marriage and divorce, child custody. He expresses interest in your career, and you talk for a few minutes about your job. You compliment him on his earring, and he smiles, a brilliant smile, as he rubs the earring almost fondly. You don't remember how it happens but you two end up talking about interests in the bedroom. A bell rings and he is standing up regretfully, your time with him is up before it even began.

The next person that sits across from you is a dark haired woman of Indian origin, she is dressed much more provocatively, a very low cut blouse shows off her large breasts, she has a large tattoo across one shoulder, you two talk tattoos for a while and then strangely, you're talking about sex again, she expresses an interest in being bound, and you're a little turned on by the thought, but then the bell rings and it's time for her to go as well.

When you see me you experience an involuntary surge of arousal, all the other people pale in comparison to me, I'm everything you like in a woman, the gothic vixen, your eyes can't stop looking at me, my long, jet black hair and my black lipstick stands out against my alabaster skin, you see my multiple eyebrow and ear piercings and you wouldn't be surprised if I had a few more.

I'm wearing a sexy collared shirt with voile sleeves; it looks like a corset the way it holds to my small frame. I waste no time with pleasantries, I ask you about the most daring thing you've done in the bedroom. You stammer about being tied up and blindfolded, and my eyes lit up. You continue more boldly, encouraged by my interest, you talk about how your lover teased you with a feather, trailing kisses down your front. The bell rings again before I can share, the damned hostess has realized that with the amount of people involved that the conversations need to be shorter. I'm already at the next seat before you realize it, making the girl next to you blush and giggle uncontrollably.

The evening passes in a blur, so many names, so much talking. You feel drained as the bell rings one last time, signalling the end of speed dating. You hand in the piece of paper that has the checkmarks of the people you want to see again, the hostess tells you that if they also check your name then you get each other's e-mails. Everyone is leaving the room to head to the actual club, you look around but you don't see me. The busty Indian woman finds you and asks you to join her for a drink; you accept and follow her and the crowd through the hallway and into the dance floor area. You do shots with Yasmin while watching the crowd, it's wilder than the average crowd, the music isn't helping, it's this throbbing, erotic beat and everyone is grinding up against each other in a drunken rhythm.

"Hey." You turn around to see me leaning casually against the counter, martini glass in hand. You forget all about Yasmin as you greet me, but I'm not interested in talking anymore. I set my drink aside and take you by the hand, leading you to the dance floor. The beat picks up, the DJ has mixed a metal song with a sick beat, we start jamming out, you don't think I'm the type to rock but I am and I do, and we're laughing with how much fun we're having. The song slows down and I back up into you, grinding my backside into your crotch.

You're hard when I reach to grope you there and for a moment you panic, you have not explained to me how you are, but when I flash a delighted grin at you, you know it's fine. We find a quieter area to be alone, I already have my hand down your pants and caress you as we kiss, my tongue just as intrusive, tasting you in an almost forceful way. That drink you had is really getting to your head, you try and tell me that you'll be right back, that you have to go to the restroom but then your eyes close and you pass out.

When you wake your mouth is dry like sandpaper, you blink at the unfamiliar surroundings, it is dark except for a few candles illuminating the room. There's a large king sized bed in the corner with thick, carved bedposts, a coffee table and a very large wardrobe, but you don't see anything else. You quickly realize you're not wearing any clothes, and you reach down to cover your nakedness. But you can't. You look with dismay at the dark leather cuffs that chain you to the ceiling, and the ones that attach your legs to the floor. You tug at them, pull them taut but they don't give. You call for help, but have the inkling that no one can hear.

You hear the creak of a door opening behind you, you try and turn but the cuffs stop you easily. "Who's there?" You call. There is a sharp smack against your bottom with something heavy and flat, you cry out, partly in pain, partly in surprise.

"Don't speak unless spoken to, slave!" You recognize my voice, you don't understand what happened, did you agree to something you didn't intend to? You ask to be freed, that there must be a misunderstanding or something. Thump! The paddle hits even harder this time, enough to sting, to make your teeth clatter and your breasts bounce. You sway back and forth in the chains until you regain your balance.

Sarcastically, I ask if you have anything else to say, but you're a quick learner, and this time you grit your teeth and say nothing. Good. Now it is my turn. I stand behind you, run my hands down your arm, trace the tattoo that runs down your spine. You've been good but I smack your butt cheek with my hand anyways, just because I can. You cry out, and I marvel at the red splotch that disappears almost instantly. We'll have to think of some way to make that beautiful color stay there.

I reach around almost languidly with my hands, index fingers circling your areolas. Whereas last night you were so willing to let me touch you, now you gasp and try to pull away. But there is nowhere to go, the only place is back into me. I tug at your nipples, mixing pain with pleasure as I twist and play with them. I press up against you, like a lover, my naked breasts touching your upper back, I feel you tense when you realize that I am naked too.

I explore your body, stroking and pinching, I bite on your shoulder until you gasp, and then finally my hands close around your hardening cock, and here you tense hard, I can see your cheek muscles bulge as you clench your teeth, you strain against the restraints, trying to get away from me, to not feel the pleasure I am giving you. I hold you close, an arm around your waist so you feel my heat up against your back.

My hands run up and down your cut length until you are fully erect. You resist me the entire time, eyes squeezed shut, as if that would help you from the tension building up inside you. I feel your mounting pleasure as if it were my own, I feel it behind my teeth, in every breath I take, and you're so close, any second now you will feel that swift rush of ecstasy. Then I take my hands away. I can tell you were not expecting this, your breathing is ragged and I can hear your confusion in the gasps. You cry out even louder than when I struck you.

But I'm not entirely cruel, I have a present for my new little pet. I head over to my workbench, and when I return you whimper as reach in front of you to show you the wooden clothespins, you're pretty sure where they're going to go.

"Don't, please." You said softly. I study your profile, you looked like someone just sucker punched you in the gut, a mournful, why me expression on your face. And yet, you don't scream for help. Perhaps you know that we are far from anyone that cares? Or maybe you just don't want to be helped at all. The clothespins go on anyway, and now you're squirming from discomfort and from the change in your groans, a little pleasure?

I walk around so that we can face each other, and you see my black feathered mask obscuring my face but the rest of me is naked, I see you look at my small breasts with the pink pierced nipples, the black tribal tattoos that flow down the left side of my body, then suddenly realizing what you were doing, you close your eyes, turn your head like an insolent child. I tsk tsk, annoyed. This will not do. I flick with my paddle, knocking off one of the clothespins. Your eyes shoot open as you cry out, shocked by the sudden, bright explosion of pain.

"I will not tolerate disobedience. Do you understand me?"

Your eyes widen as I move the paddle closer to the other clothespin, but you don't speak. I wave it menacingly, and you finally stammer out. "Yes, I understand."

I tilt my head upwards, satisfied by this small victory. "Yes I understand, my mistress." I correct. At this you purse your lips defiantly, and immediately I swing again, sending the other clothespin flying. I am reaching for the smaller clothespins with a stronger bite when you finally blurt out. "Okay, okay! I understand, my mistress."

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" I pat your face nonchalantly as I walk back to my workbench. There are so many things we could do, but I feel that you won't be able to take much more. But I am greedy, there's one more thing I want to take tonight.

I relax the chains and you collapse onto the ground in relief, rubbing your sore wrists. You're so preoccupied with your own body, you don't even realize that I'm now attaching your restraints to the floor. It is only when I'm pulling them taut again do you realize your mistake. Now when you scramble to escape, it is already too late. You tug and pull on the chains to my delight, I lean back against the workbench, admiring the view of your glorious backside. Your legs are still spread, your tiny brown star exposed, it's practically an open invitation.

When my fingers touch you there and you jolt and beg for me to stop, I know no one has ever touched you there. You fight with all your will this time, but really, it's futile and you know it. You're all sweaty now, and I grasp your cock with one hand, resuming my ministrations as before. You stop writhing for a moment until you realize how wrong it is to want it, and then you're pulling on the chains again.

I hum a tune as I squirt lube onto your asshole, running my finger against the ring of muscle. And your body loves it, I know because you are rock hard in my hand as my finger penetrates you, your muscles grip me and don't want to let go. The sounds you are making, how marvelous! You are moaning, shame completely forgotten as I fuck you with my fingers, my hips thrusting. You have never experienced anything like this, you're bucking against my fingers and you beg for more. This time, I let you come, and you spurt a stream of pearlescent liquid all over the carpet. As you pant for air I caress and kiss you all over your body, telling you what a good little slave you've been. I loosen the chains for your arms so you can lie down, and then I leave.

Over the next few days I continue to work you, the first night was only the introduction, I won't stop until there is no more fight left in you. The next day when I wear a strap on and tell you to suck it, you look at me with this disbelieving look in your eyes until I backhand you, and after that you never look at me that way again. I fuck your mouth with it, make you deep throat the black six inch dildo until you gag, and then I fuck you with it, over and over again, something we both enjoy immensely.

Sometimes when I come, I bring a new toy for you to experience, a riding crop that stings like a nasty bite when I hit you with it, the next time it's nipple clamps, another day an electric stick that shocks. But your favorite is always the strap on, you get hard the moment you see me with it on.

You're not sure how many days it's been since you were kidnapped, there are no windows in this room, no way to tell night from day. The only time you see other people is when the muscular bouncer from the club comes to undo your chains so that you may use the tiny bathroom in the room, or eat the food he brings you. Once a nude man comes to retrieve something from the wardrobe. He is wearing a studded leather collar just like yours, and there is a small dragon earring in his ear. It is John,the lawyer from the speed dating event! He never makes eye contact with you, doesn't even acknowledge that you exist, he only grabs a whip from the wardrobe and leaves again.

And then one day, when you wake up, you're no longer chained up, your wrists and ankles are bare, wrapped in soft silk bandages. The collar remains however. When I open the door to get you, you avert your eyes, looking down at the floor.

"Come my slave." I say to you as I head out of the room. Obediently, you follow.