A generation ago America passed a law allowing a bankrupt person’s debts to be bought by rich Masters. The debt slaves then belonged to their Masters for the duration of the debt. The debt slavery shaped society, giving rise to clubs where people played domination and submission games.
Chadrick enjoyed visiting the local club. It was one of the best in the city and well worth the membership costs, especially when visiting Masters showed off new techniques. When Mistress Betsy came to visit Chadrick leaped at the chance to play with her during a demonstration.
The sweet-voiced little Mistress was renowned for her skill with the whip. Chadrick wasn’t going to miss the chance to experience her skills first hand, even if instinct shouted that he should run away.
Warnings / Themes for this story include consensual BDSM, sex clubs, whipping, but not much else. It’s more or less fluffy for this verse.
Crack of Doom
The whip cracked over Chadrick’s left shoulder, making him jerk against the cuffs restraining him. It was hard to hear anything in the room, not just because his heart was beating so hard that it pounded in his ears. No one moved. They didn’t seem to be breathing because all Chadrick could hear was his own desperate puffs and gasps for breath.
It was mortifying. To be so undone and the whip hadn’t even landed on him yet. Chadrick shivered as Mistress Betsy chuckled behind him. She shifted her feet, sky-high heels clicking on the tile floor while her full petticoats whispered around her. He didn’t dare turn his head to look at her, not when she’d ordered him to face the cross and then stay still for her.
“Hmmm, nervous, aren’t you?” Mistress Betsy said, her voice all throaty amusement despite being as high and sweet as a little girl’s. “You remember your word?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Chadrick said. His voice came out nearly as high as Mistress Betsy’s.
“Good boy,” she purred, one satin-encased hand brushing over Chadrick’s back. “Breathe for me.”
Chadrick sucked in a deep breath, well aware that he was shaking hard enough to make the chains above him chime. He wanted this. He’d asked for it. Having seen Mistress Betsy use her whip on his friend Jeff a few weeks ago there was no chance that he’d turn down the opportunity to experience her skills firsthand.
“I want this,” Chadrick told himself as he drew in another deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it go. “Yes, it’ll hurt. Yes, I’m scared of the pain. But I know she’s good and I know I’ll like it. I’ve been whipped before. No one will let it go too far. I’m not trapped. This is a safe place. I’ll be okay.”
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