Before Sydney could speak, I pressed her onto her back.
“But that,” I said over her startled yelp, “Is a conversation for another time. This isn’t about you and Miranda, not now anyways.”
I smiled as I grabbed one of her legs. “This is about me.”
For a moment, I toyed with it almost absently, as I had with Miranda not too long ago. But that was then, and this was now.
Deliberately, I moved my grip higher, and brushed against the inside of her thigh.
“You know, Sydney, I’ve been wanting to cut loose for awhile now, but I’ve held my patience for all this time.”
Time that could be measured in days or years, depending on how you wanted to look at it. Either way, it was far too long for my tastes.
“But I’m done waiting.” I continued as I stared down into her uncertain expression.
Miranda wanted a show, and I was happy to deliver.
I flicked my finger lightly towards the space between her legs and she yelped again, now with pain mixed with the surprise.
“And I’m ready for some fun.”
Slowly, I pressed the tips of my fingers against her skin and dragged them across her. Up, down, to the sides, I followed a winding path wherever I pleased, tracing the patterns I felt within her: tiny muscles, oh so fragile bones, the borders of her chest as it expanded and contracted with her every rapid breath.
Eventually, I broke the tense silence. “I’m curious, Sydney. You hear all sorts of rumors about Mins, but there’s one in particular I’d like to hear from the source, as it were.”
My wandering hand finally paused, fingers posed at the top and bottom of one of her breasts.
“Tell me, how does it feel when I do this?”
Sharply, the fingers slide to the top, pinching her nipple between them.
She screamed, this time.
“Pain and Mins, apparently, is a hotly debated topic. Some say that it’s… naturally erotic to you, that every Min is a natural sub that wants to be toyed with and tortured.”
I let go as a finger began to circle her tortured nipple.
“Others say it’s a matter of training. That you can just teach a Min to enjoy the pain, if you work at it a litte.”
“I’d like to settle that question, once and for all. So answer me this: was that a good pain, or a bad one?” I asked, before adding with mock solemnity, “And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest.”
“It was a bad pain, Master!” Sydney cried. “A bad pain! P-please don’t do it again!”
I nodded. “Good, good. That’s exactly what I want to hear: nice, clear answers.”
I was only half joking. There were lots of rumors of Mins and their sexuality; and while it was generally agreed that they had a sensitivity that far outmatched that of a human’s, the details from there on were a bit foggy. I had realized early on that only experience would give me some clarity on my unanswered questions, and while I had looked forward to working them out together with Miranda… Sydney would do just as well for this. Besides, with how things were going, it was probably for the best that I worked out the kinks before I got to Miranda.
“You’re being such a good little test subject, aren’t you?” I continued. “What a good toy you are! I think you deserve a reward.”
Shifting focus away from her breasts for the moment, I shifted my hold on Sydney, taking her legs more firmly into my hand as I positioned her so my thumb rested directly on her rear end.
Carefully, I began to knead at one buttock, adding as an aside, “You know, you do have a nice ass.”
Confused and wary, Sydney turned as far as she could in my grip to look up at me, but as I continued my impromptu message she began to lean against my digit instead, letting out a small sigh.
I continued as my thumb moved to the other cheek. “Nice and firm. Even now, I bet you could bounce a quarter off it, though probably not as high as you could before.”
Gradually, my thumbed moved higher, to the small of her back, and Sydney began to almost lay limp in my hand.
While Mins being little torture sluts seemed to be disproved, the fact that they all but melted under a massage was becoming an all but confirmed fact; I had no experience in massage, but Sydney seemed to have already forgotten the abuse I had inflicted on of the most delicate areas on her body just a few minutes ago.
Useful information, to be sure, but it teasing out this information from her body was something I could only call enthralling. You could read all you wanted to about the enhanced sensitivity of the disportionately large nerves in a Min, but that knowledge was nothing compared to the experience of a woman’s complete surrender to a simple touch.
It was a heady feeling, and one that I knew I could easily become addicted too… not that I minded the idea.
Quietly, I moved Sydney down onto my free leg, taking a moment to check on Miranda before I continued. I expected her to be watching me, maybe looking at me with the vicious approval she had just begun to reveal, or perhaps more of the blank non-reaction she showed when I scared her and she didn’t want me to know it.
It was none of those things. She wasn’t even looking at me. Instead, I looked down to find her staring at the raging hard on that had developed as I had toyed with Sydney. And she was blushing.
It didn’t take long for Miranda to realize something was wrong, to look up into my shocked eyes. She paled instantly, and her sudden dread infuriated me, ruining the high I had been riding.
She noticed.
“Ian, I-” she began.
I interrupted her.
“No.” I all but snarled. “No, we’re not doing this right now. We’re not. You-”
I couldn’t finish, instead letting out a long, low hiss of pure frustration. Squeezing my eyes shut so hard that I saw spots, I forced myself to not think about it. I wanted, I wanted her so badly, and she knew that, and she-
“We’re not doing this right now.” I repeated, as much to myself as to Miranda. “We’re just not. I can’t handle that conversation right now. You don’t want me to try and have that conversation right now.”
Or maybe she did. It was an insidious thought, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shake it.
Some distant, almost predatory corner of my mind had catalogued the way everyone on my body had moved when my eyes were closed, and while both of them had shifted in ways that I could only call fearful, neither of them tried to leave. It was, whether they knew it or, absolutely the right move on their parts: I would have chased any runners.
“And thankfully, we don’t have to.” As I spoke, I opened my eyes, focusing my attention on a safer target.
“That’s what Sydney’s for, isn’t she? This is why you wanted her here, wasn’t it? To… handle all the things you can’t.”
That you won’t.
“To be used in your place.”
I turned my attention back to Miranda, and finished venomously, “To be your replacement.”
By the time I finished Miranda looked almost ill with horror and despair, with tiny, diamond-like tears welling in her eyes. It was cruel to prey on her fears like this, to turn her own words against her, but I was feeling cruel.
As a final blow, I proceeded to do the thing Miranda feared most from me: I ignored her, turning away from her to focus on the other woman instead.
At some point, Sydney had decided that it was the perfect time to imitate a deer in the headlights. It was as foolish a decision for her as it always was for the deer, though to be far she had reached a point where in all honesty she had no good options.
I was upset, and was going to take it out on someone, and everyone knew it was going to be on her. There was nothing she could to save herself from me.
When I moved my hand towards her this time, it wasn’t to pick her up, but to pin her in place.
“I’d tell you this is for the sake of our little experiment,” I stated calmly as lifted my free hand in the air. I left it there to let the two of them take it in, to realize what was about to happen. Even Sydney, with hand covering the small of her back, could squirm just enough to look around and take in my looming hand.
From my other side I heard a quiet gasp.
“But I’m not going to bother with excuses. I just want to hurt someone right now, and I’ve decided you’re the one that’s up. You didn’t do anything wrong, you’re just unlucky.” I tensed my arm, only to pause and add, almost sheepishly, “And in all honesty, because it’s going to feel nice. You really do have one spankable ass.”
And then before anyone could react, I let my arm fall. Sydney jerked under my hand, let out a agonized cry that left me baring my teeth in a snarl of delight.
I hit her again. And again. And again. I lost myself to the motion of my violence, to the sounds of pain and the oh so satisfying smack against my palm. Eventually, I stopped, and realized I was panting for breath, and my throat was sore, as if I had been screaming.
Still pressed down against my leg, Sydney lay limp, crying quietly.
I didn’t look for Miranda.
Sydney didn’t react as my hand closed around her before lifting her into the air, and for the moment I chose to ignore her, and focus more on how I had damaged her: not only her butt, but her thighs and lower back were a bright, angry red that almost seemed to throb as I looked at it.
It was bad; worse than I would have liked, but not nearly as bad as I had feared. Nothing seemed broken, or out of place, and I couldn’t see anything breaking her skin, either. There would almost certainly be some nasty bruising, and maybe there was something worse happening inside her, but all things considered Sydney still seemed to be intact.
I had meant to hurt, not maim, and it seemed that even in my frenzy I had kept to that desire. On impulse I brought her to my face, and planted a light kiss on one red cheek, and then the other.
"There there, " I murmered, as soothingly as I could, “It’s all over. You did a great job, Sydney. I’m proud of you.”
Moving her back, I stopped as I noticed something glisten in the light. Carefully, I reached out with a finger and prodded at the liquid that coated the inside of her legs. Sydney’s cries turned into a startled yelp at the contact, and I was surprised to see her legs squeeze shut, trying to keep me pinned in place.
Gently, I extracted my finger from her hold, trying to avoid causing any more damage in the process, and I would have had to been deaf to miss the frustrated whine she made as it escaped.
“Well.” I said finally as I examined the fluid that covered my finger tip. “What do you know? The internet didn’t lie to me.”
One major surgery and numerous other related health crises later, I’ve returned to tell you all this: I lived, bitch. It’s not an exaggeration in the least to say this is the best I’ve felt in a decade.
So, yeah, I’m back. Feels nice.
Anyways, if my forced time off from doing things was good for nothing else, I’ve got a pretty solid picture of where this story’s going in the future; probably at least… six chapters, if not more, that I know what is going to happen, I just need to write it. Which is more complicated than it should be, but is better than having no idea at all, at least. Let’s all ignore how this diverted from my plans as I wrote it and how that could affect my future planning, OK?
All that said… does this chapter track? I know what I want from this, but i’m not sure Ian’s sudden frustration makes sense as is, from a reader’s perspective. It makes sense to me, but let me know if I need to try to expand on that or if it seems good.
