"Goddammit! Who left all these sluts on the floor?!" I bellowed from beneath this damnable black hood. I hovered over the quivering body of a tall, pale brunette. Her eyes were the dreamy, watery eyes of a woman who had been spanked, spunked, and sodomized into near madness. Her ankles and wrists were bound in wide black leather restraints and connected with a black braided and studded length of leather.
She was tiny compared to me, but then again, most were. I reached down and lifted first her, and then her similarly bound weakling of a husband like they were slightly cumbersome, writhing luggage and carried them across the dungeon floor. To my right, my apprentice (Slug was his name for now. He hadn't earned a proper title from Elliot, er..."Lord Coal", and wouldn't until he could provide proof of insurance and a clean blood test) was awkwardly flogging a rather unimpressed young actress best known for... well nothing really, aside from those movies with Shia LaBouf.
"Pathetic." I said as I passed, shaking my head. She smirked over her shoulder, temporarily forgetting where she was. She was rewarded with a sharp crack across her toned and tight ass.
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Celebrities were nothing new here. Hell, it was the main reason I even had this job. Big names want someone big watching over them. Here at the Black Keep (inc.), we are second to none in safety, skill, and if need be; enforcing silence.
I tossed the pansy onto a rough wooden table being manned by Mistress Lenore, his little cock twitching at my indifference. These pathetic perverts will get off to anything. Show them attention, ignore them, yell at them, spit on them, fuck their wives; whatever. Most of the other "Doms" are really just enthusiastic members of the scene. Not me. Not by a long shot.
It all started at the Minnesota Regional World's Strongest Man competition some ten or twelve years ago. I was pumped. Fresh out of college where my wrestling scholarship had paid for a shameful attempt at learning sports medicine (the anatomy lessons paid off, at least), I did it all. Bench, Squat, Chin Ups, Atlas Stones, Keg Toss, D-Bol, Deca, Human Growth Hormone, caffeine, cocaine, Adderal; you name it.
I was broke, to say the least; and making ends meet moving furniture for my uncle's company. "Damn, Ollie; you can really throw a couch around!" I remember him saying one day; and he was right. I was 6'6, 310 lbs of pure Minnesota meathead. "You should enter one-a those Strongman competitions!" I did, and I won. Easily. 9 months later and I was in the finals with my pockets full and my nuts empty thanks to a little cardio bunny from the gym I'd been smashing on the side.
That all changed when this fucking minotaur of a man, Sven Gunnarson, tossed a keg so far the crowd had to scatter. I wasn't about to give up. I grabbed the aluminum rim of that keg and swung it back and forth, building momentum. With a great inhalation, I filled my lungs with the cool, crisp air and heaved it as hard as I could. Not even second place. I walked off that field devastated. I was going to be slinging couches for minimum wage for the rest of my wasted life.
Or so I thought.
That night, I remember my head swaying at the bar as I spilled the bottle of bourbon I'd been gulping with my paltry $100 prize money for finishing 5th overall. That still made me stronger than virtually everyone else in the world, but it was clear I wasn't even the strongest man in Minnesota, let alone the globe. That's when a smooth hand landed on my shoulders. I turned to look, and I saw her. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had just passed out.
"Hello stranger. This is for you." she said, holding something that looked like a chain in her hand. My head swam, but her eyes met mine as a mischievous smile parted her soft lips. I grinned back like a dumbass for who knows how long before I realized the chain was attached to a ring on her choker. She could see the confusion on my face and giggled. "Come on. Lets go out back." she said.
I stumbled behind her holding the leash. She may have had the collar but I was the one being led around. The cardio bunny's face was priceless, or so I was told later by more sober minded individuals.
"Hey listen, I'm not paying for..." was all I got out before she grabbed my cock through my trousers. She put a finger to my lips, and twirled the leash as she disappeared around the corner. I looked around, wiped my forehead, and followed. She was waiting for me, the leash swaying.
"This is yours, remember?" she said with a husky voice.
"All of it?" I asked, stepping closer. I reached out and took the end of the leash, gripping it until it creaked. She lowered herself to a squat, and nodded with a grin. I cracked a wicked smile as I wound the leash around my fist with one hand and produced my cock with the other.
"You have to tell me what to do." She said, biting her lip and staring into my eyes as my member swelled. I pulled the leash tight so that her mouth was inches from my now hard cock.
"Suck it." I said, surprising myself.
"Yes sir." she said, and with tender lips, sealed my fate.
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