[A/N] Blimey... How did it get this long? I don't remember writing so many chapters... Who here has secretly been adding chapters to my book? Hmmm... I am very suspicious of all of you...

Sex warning and all that. Repulsed asexuals have ten seconds to hide before I start going into graphic detail... （ ｀▽' )

[Belem's POV]

He stepped outside for a moment and thought I might collapse from apprehension.

So far I would be hard pressed to express my experience here as anything along the lines of torture. Perhaps the lack of sleep combined with the beatings I got, but nothing frightening enough that torture would truly be a valid name for it. 

Because of this I was stuck in waiting, waiting for them pull out a blade and discuss detaching my skin from my body, or pull out a set of plyers and ask me how much fun it would be to talk without any teeth. I had been told horror stories of it, I knew my master would have happily agreed to any of them, it was partly what forced my loyalty to him in the first place... before I began to feel loyalty that came from a place other than direct fear.

When he returned I turned to look at him and then focused my eyes on my knees.

He stepped closer and I pulled back, leaning away from him, watching him wearily. I didn't trust the man as far as I could throw him and I wasn't sure I could lift him if I tried. He was tall, broad-shouldered, but narrow, deceptively so. I knew the moment he grabbed my arm and pulled me forwards, I felt the force of lean muscle, the same that had knocked me out the first time we met.

I struggled, wide eyed and trying not to show any fear on my face but the truth was that I didn't know what to expect from him, didn't like how I responded to him.

"Afraid?" He asked me in a low voice.

I shook my head. "I can take it. I can take anything." I said, with all the stubborn confidence I could muster.

His fingers were warm on me, I was cold and almost shivering. "What if you cannot take it?" He asked, moving me back against the bars of the cell and pulled something like string or a thin rope against me, moving it behind me.

"Anything." I replied, my hands shaking, I hoped he would tie them back so that it would not be so visible but he made no attempt to.

His eyes almost appeared to me as gentle for a moment when he turned to look at me and I found myself ensnared by them without noticing. They were enigmatic eyes, hiding everything they could. I had met men like him before but never someone quite as attractive, quite so closed off, quite so beautiful.

And there he was, tying me back against the cell bars.

It took me a moment to look down and see the way my chest, shoulders and hips were tied back when he pulled the rope underneath me so that it was dangerously close to my cock and now very clearly inappropriate looking. I blushed severely to see just how indecent I must have looked to him.

He curved his lips when he saw my burning face.

"Anything?" He murmured.

My heart raced, trying desperately to keep myself from seeing a thousand images that would make my cock visibly flesh out. I nodded slowly.

"What is this?" I asked him, straining against the ropes that seemed far less abrasive than any other ropes I'd come into contact with. "What have you tied me with?"

"Ropes made of silk..." He spoke, it almost sounded like a deadly purr, I tried to stifle the arousal I was fighting with.

He settled in front of me, so elegantly it seemed inhuman, then very suddenly and gently rested a hand on my leg, and looked down at me as if he were a bird of prey, observing me from a higher nest, considering carefully whether or not I was ready to be eaten.

I pursed my lips, fighting with nervousness and lust to keep a straight face. The weight felt good, it felt like a test, a promise on my leg, and slowly it moved up and my chest rose and fell dramatically as I looked away.

"W- What are you doing..." I said finally.

"Punishing you." He said simply as his hand finally found my cock and squeezed it.

My breath hitched, I reached out and gripped his arm but it made no impact whatsoever, partly due to the fact that he was stronger than I, partly because I made no real effort to stop him.

It was somehow easier a thought to pull away from him entirely than it was to pull his hand away. I strained at the ropes, it felt almost heady to be so unable to move, to feel his hand on my cock and the ropes binding me back in a position so inexorably obscene.

His hand moved, my cock tingled, beginning to flesh out. "It... It doesn't feel much like a punishment..." I said slowly, my breath lower than normal as his hand stroked my cock through the thin fabric of my undergarments. 

He said nothing but his dark glittering eyes frightened me. This man had  tortured many people before me so why should I expect to be treated any better than they were.

My eyes flickered around the room as his hand moved, warming me, gentle fingers running up and down the length of my cock. My breathing growing steadily more erratic.

This room was once a tomb to others preceding him, and instead of feeling depressed or angry I was growing dizzy with lust.

"Hit yourself." He said then, a low clear command.

"W- What?" I looked at him, startled.

He looked up at me with a cool, calculated expression, hands still moving now deftly slipping under my trousers and pulling out my cock which was now hard, jutting out to the left.

He wrapped his whole hand around my cock and I groaned, dropping my head and closing my eyes.

"I dislike repeating a command before it is obeyed." He said in a cool authoritarian voice.

That voice alone caused an influx of desire that caused me to shiver. I opened my eyes to squint at him, feeling heated, my chest rising and falling.

"It seems like you can't make up your mind..." I replied bitterly. "Or do you just not want my master to be able to tell me to hit myself?"

It was no overdramatization to say I cried out in pain and shock when he pinched my balls, and not gently, the dramatic shock of the pain almost winding me as I tried to blink the stars out of my eyes.

I looked at him with wide eyes, he looked as calm as ever, that cruel gaze just as untouched, as formidable and peaceful as before.

And his hand returned to my cock and continued stroking and despite all of it, despite my erection waning a little, desire almost suffocated me afterwards along with some throbbing residual pain.

I laid there panting and worried and frozen.

"Hit yourself." He ordered again.

I raised a shaking hand.

"Open palm." He added.

I swallowed, opening my hand, drawing back and hitting myself.

He stopped.

I blinked at him, surprised, the pleasure quickly fading, my mouth opened. He didn't return, just sat still. "W- This- What are you doing?"

He tilted his head. "Teaching you a lesson." He said calmly.

My cock was burning for more attention, I could almost feel the climax somewhere off in the distance waiting to be had and even though I knew, I knew that it would be possible later, a some stage probably, I wanted him to be the one to draw it from me, needed it to be him.

Then, suddenly, his hand returned and I sighed in relief as he finally continued. I closed my eyes, imagining that everything else around us was disappearing, just him and me.

Despite knowing this wouldn't last long I found myself approaching climax, saw it coming, I was panting, breathing in his scent, taking in everything that could push me further.

Then came the command again.

"Hit yourself."

I looked up wearily, breathing uneven, pleasure coiling around me. 

He raised an eyebrow, I raised a hand and quickly hit myself, the smack sounding more painful than it felt even as my hand burned and so did my face. He immediately he pulled away.

I swallowed, trying to find my voice. "Why?" I asked him.

"Teaching you a lesson." He replied again, and I spoke over him angrily this time.

"Yes, yes! Teaching me a lesson! Is that lesson that I should ignore your orders so you would finish this and stop teasing me?!"

I wanted his hand back, before my gratification was lost, before the string of lust I was attached to was cut.

"It is not." He said simply. "If you hit yourself; I punish you by removing pleasure. If you disobey me; I punish you by inflicting pain."

He spoke the words so gently that I thought he might just be a brute, and realising what was to come, not knowing just how long this despicable punishment was intended to last for, I groaned when his hand returned to my cock and began to pleasure it again.

I tried to hide when I was enjoying myself, when I was approaching climax, tried to keep my eyes shut and my face impassive, but I was never suited to be a statue.

And the dreaded command came once more. "Hit yourself." He ordered.

I hit myself. He stopped. My confused cock eventually became softer and he returned to servicing me and before I could fully set myself on enjoying it, before I could focus on the eventual climax, he ordered me to hit myself again. And again and again he repeated this, so that eventually when he ordered me to hit myself I almost wept in agony.

I was trembling with desire, needed more, needed the finishing touch he was withholding from me. From my blurred vision I saw his eyes, they appeared to be lit with fire, enough so that his look alone caused me to burn.

"Please..." I begged him, my eyes wet with grief.

His fingers moved towards my balls and I jolted and a second hadn't deigned to pass before I hit myself and his hand pulled away.

"I won't hit myself..." I sobbed. "Just finish this, please..."

He smiled. "Good boy..." He gently ran his fingers through my hair, my eyes fluttering at the pleasant feeling, I allowed myself to grant hope for a second before he dashed it. "But I am a cruel master, and I will finish when I believe you have learnt, not when you say you have."

"No..." I whispered, closing my eyes when his hand returned. It seemed to get easier for him to arouse me after a break, and the breaks seemed to be getting longer. I waited tense for his hand again and it meant it was harder for me to go even partially flaccid.

My hand was burning, my face was burning too, I wished that it was bound back, so that he couldn't make me hit myself with it anymore, wished that I hadn't hit myself in the first place, that I wouldn't have reduced myself to this mortifying, heated, blubbering mess before him..

The climax was approaching, a string of precum dribbled from my cock and made his hand glide more smoothly down me and a single stifled gasp was enough for him to pull away.

I looked up at him, eyebrows pointing to my centre forehead, wondering if I could hold back tears if I tried hard enough.

"Hit yourself." He commanded.

"Master please..." I barely heard my own utterance, did not realise the significance of it at the time. In his eyes was a blaze of fire and I only thought to myself, wondered, how it was possible for a man to look so bewitching, so dominant and so seductive.

Only, after a moment's pause, to feel his fingers move to below my cock and I gasped, moving immediately, raising my hand.

[A/N]  Flirtatious smiles to my patrons...

♆ min_aholic ♆