Unbroken by Kira Stone

Unbroken by Kira Stone


by Kira Stone

Changeling Press

Ebook ISBN: 07663-02471

[ BDSM Erotica, MM ]

Love, Worship, and Obey. Master demands nothing less. Mine’s devotion to Master is unwavering. Unbreakable.

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Chapter One

Master’s motorcycle sprayed loose gravel across the drive as we turned into the parking lot of his favorite gay bar, simply named The Place. I never quite understood how what went on inside could go unnoticed by local residents, especially the police. There was so much more to it than the name implied.

“Off,” Master ordered and I quickly dismounted and stood behind him.

He took off his helmet, letting his short salt and pepper hair free. It only took a few seconds to ruffle it into place. My own brown hair was longer and required a comb to brush out the tangles from the road.

“Leash,” came the next command.

He handed me a light chain, which I connected to the loop on my collar. My collar had been formed from a single piece of metal specifically shaped to my neck, with a heavy duty link at the front for chains and anything else Master desired. It was a gift from Master at the beginning of our third year together, inscribed with the date he collared me and his initials. Only Master himself meant more to me than the symbolism of that collar.

The leash ensured that I followed him — as if I would do anything else without his direct order — as he approached the door of the double wide trailer. Well, the structure had started out life as a double wide. More than a few modifications had been made over the years to become what it was today: The Place.

Walking at his left side, a pace behind, I kept my eyes on his back. The familiar vision of black leather, even in the dark of night, comforted me. Although we’d been here many times before, tonight I needed that comfort. Something in the air just didn’t feel right.

We walked inside and those who knew my Master called out greetings or at least grunted in welcome. I expected to be led to the bar where I would kneel at his feet while he drank whatever he fancied. Instead, Master guided me to a series of metal loops anchored to a reinforced wall.

Several other slaves were chained up to either side of me. The ones to my right were owned by other Masters and these slaves had special rights. A charm specific to some kind of BDSM exclusive group dangled from their collar to indicate their higher position. Part of me longed for such a charm to let others know Master had chosen a good slave. However, it wasn’t my decision to make, nor did I know what had to be done to earn one.

Another set of metal loops hung at the other end of the wall, mostly filled with a wide variety of submissives, from bears to twinks. These men belonged to The Place, to be used by whoever wanted them. Not all of them were eager to serve, but they had little choice in the matter. However they’d gotten here, this was now their life.

Master connected my leash to one of the owned loops. “Kneel and grasp the ring with both hands. You will remain in this position until you are released.”

I expected him to walk away then, but Master looked me over with a critical expression. He had chosen my clothes, so he couldn’t be displeased by the black leather outfit that fit me like a second skin, ending with a pair of biker boots that buckled up the side. He nodded, as if he’d considered something and decided on a positive answer. “Stay, Mine. You know the rules.”

Then he did something he so rarely did in public. He leaned down and kissed me hard, possessively. An action that took me by surprise and nearly stopped my heart. My cock swelled with the love I felt for Master. To feel his control, his ownership, his mastery over me, this is what I existed for.

Before I could respond to his kiss properly, he’d pulled back. His brown eyes bored into mine. “Remember the rules,” he reminded me again. Then he walked over to a group of his buddies, disappearing into the circle of men at the bar, leaving me a bit stunned and confused.

Remember the rules. Safe, Sane and Consensual. When you first decide to test the Dominant/submissive waters, those words are meant to keep you out of trouble. Seeking a long term D/s relationship is much like finding any other kind of partner. Compatibility, similar interests, and a desire to know each other better.

After seven years together, I knew my Master wasn’t referring to those rules. Once my training with him as his personal slave truly began, the first rule I learned was, “Master’s will is law.” Not only did I remember that one, it was engraved on my heart, mind and soul. He had total control over my every thought and action because that’s what we both wanted. I breathed at his mercy and he’d never given me reason to regret that decision.

As trust grew between us and we learned more about each other, the rule of “Love, Worship and Obey” became the next step in our relationship. I now loved Master beyond words, knowing he would take care of me in every way. Worshiping him was my purpose in life, and serving his every need brought me the greatest pleasure I’d ever known. Obeying, well, I always did that to the best of my ability.

All other rules flowed from those three words. I was sure this set of words was what Master wanted me to keep foremost in mind. I was his. He wouldn’t let any harm come to me if he could prevent it, as long as I obeyed him. I would serve him without question until the end of my days, accepting whatever punishment he felt was appropriate when I did make the occasional mistake. He knew this to be true, for I had proven it time and time again.

No, I felt the warmth, warning and tension in him had to do with my ability to obey. I still had a tendency to act impulsively when under stress. Now, if I only knew why my obedience could be an issue tonight.

One of my Master’s rules prevented me from speaking to others without his permission. A similar command prevented me from looking any Master in the eye. Remaining mute meant I couldn’t talk to the slaves next to me, and it seemed at least some of them understood. A nod or a smile, these were permitted and so I didn’t feel entirely alone. Still, the prospects of what might happen to me nagged at me.

My nervousness kept me shuffling positions as much as kneeling and the steel ring would allow. I tried to close my eyes and shut out the noise around me in a meditative fashion, hearing my Master’s voice repeating positive reinforcement from our past. When that didn’t bring me solace, I tried distraction in the form of looking at the boots of others passing by and wondering who wore them.

More than an hour passed and still tension rippled through the air like heat waves. It wasn’t just me. Everyone in The Place seemed to be waiting for something to happen. The extra shuffling of boots, the subdued conversations, the larger than average crowd. I’d never seen this happen before. Despite my interest in the abnormalities, foreboding filled my stomach.

I longed to put my arms down for a moment and stretch my shoulders. Want and action were different, however. I’d stand the strain in my shoulders without complaint. It was Master’s will. I could only wait and hope that Master would chose to leave soon.

* * *

It was during one of my meditative periods that the trouble started. Heavy tread warned me that a man approached the line of submissives and I opened my eyes out of caution. From what I was allowed to see, the man was big, with rolling muscles encased in studded black leather. His every body movement commanded respect and promised punishment for those who failed to adequately give it. A Master, and a predator.

This man was a stranger to me. Certainly not one of Master’s friends I had been introduced to. I wished with all my heart that this man would keep on walking, but he stopped in front of me. “I see by your collar that you are owned, slave. Where’s your Master?”

I tilted my chin toward the bar where I’d last seen him but didn’t raise my eyes to search for his leather-encased back.

“Ah, he cares so little for you that he leaves you among the beasts of other men rather than keep you safe at his side.”

His point stung a little. Often I did sit at Master’s heel. This time he chose to chain me instead. I mentally shrugged. It was Master’s will. Besides, the unspoken rules of the club should have been enough warning to leave collared slaves like me alone. The house slaves at the other end of the wall were provided to new guests for precisely for that reason — so those of us who were owned wouldn’t be bothered by unapproved requests.

“Don’t worry, slut. I like the looks of you. I’ll make proper use of you and leave behind some pointers for your owner.”

Only by force. However, being told to remain in this position and knowing that I wasn’t allowed to speak to anyone without permission made defending myself less than easy. Add to that the fact that as a general rule a sub shouldn’t damage any Master for any reason other than a death threat meant I couldn’t fight back using my legs or, should he get close enough, my teeth should he attempt to remove me.

As he reached for his zipper, I shut my eyes. I found his attitude and willingness to break the commonly accepted D/s rules offensive. I was owned, damn it!

My best hope to escape this man was that Master would see what was happening and put an end to it. However, no rescue looked imminent.

The man leaned in toward me, his hot, whisky-laden breath ghosted over my face. “Open your eyes. See the treat I have for you.”

I shook my head. Oral sex or even water sports weren’t unusual in The Place. Late at night, after much alcohol had been sucked down, almost anything could happen. But I didn’t belong to this man and Master rarely allowed me to be used by another, even his close friends. Since Master hadn’t given his express permission, this wasn’t someone I should obey beyond common courtesy.

He ran his fingers through my hair and grabbed a fist full at the top. I guessed what he would do next and was prepared for the solid tug. It hardly hurt at all, but I also knew that if Master didn’t see what was happening soon, I was in serious danger of harm or breaking my obedience.

“I said, open your eyes.”

I shook my head as much as his grip would allow. As I suspected, he yanked harder, and still I felt only a mild sting. This type of treatment, something Master would occasionally do himself, wouldn’t break me. Hopefully this free man would stop and find another, more cooperative playmate among the house slaves. That unfortunate soul would have my sympathies.

“You will call me Master and forget all about that other guy by the time I’m done with you.”

Not even if the alternative is being served to demons as a soul sacrifice. Master was my world, my reason for being. No other could take that away from me by force or by guile. Even if Master chose to sell me one day, my love for and worship of him would remain.

“Perhaps your soon-to-be former Master has left you here because you’re disobedient and useless. I will correct that, you can be sure.”

Despite my best efforts, he used his thumb to pry my lips apart. “Suck it,” the stranger ordered.

His other hand continued its tight grip on my hair so I could only move my head a fraction. However, my tightly pressed teeth barring his thumb’s entry into my mouth was an answer.

“Do you desire my cock instead, slave? Is that what you’re holding out for?”

I smelled his masculine but unpleasant scent as he slapped my face with his semi-rigid member. Though bile rose in my throat, I kept my teeth tightly clenched. I again tried to pull away from his grip but with my arms still on the rings and his hand still gripping my hair, I was trapped.

“Oh yeah, you want it. Trust me. I’ll prove it to you.”

Using his fingers of his free hand, he pried my lips open, then attempted to shove his growing cock into my mouth. My jaw ached from keeping it so tightly clenched. The part of my mind not focused on following my rules and a method of defense wondered why my Master hadn’t observed the position I was in and intervened.

Some of the slaves nearby had taken notice though and shifted restlessly, making noise with their feet and chains to draw attention to what was happening. They were quickly quieted or ignored. That surprised me. Surely someone would step in and stop this man’s highly inappropriate behavior, whether I was known to them or not. This action went well beyond the code that all honorable Masters followed, and by rights he should be barred from The Place.

“Let’s see if a drink will open your mouth to me.”

I shivered with revulsion. Drinking down any kind of fluid from this man… the gorge rising in my throat nearly caused me to unlock my teeth just to vomit.

Surprisingly, instead of what I’d imagined, the stranger ordered a drink from the bar. When he returned with it, his dick still hard and prominent, he parted my lips once more and poured the alcohol into my mouth. There was no way I could prevent it from trickling between the spaces in my teeth and I coughed as the rough taste of whisky hit the back of my throat. Did he think by getting me drunk he’d get what he wanted? That was laughable. Inebriation wouldn’t cause me to submit to him, either.

He didn’t take advantage of the brief opening, and I looked up far enough to see that he had set the glass down and sheathed his cock again.

Nothing about this made any sense. The more I tried to think about it, the more blurred my thoughts became. And then, unaccountably, the world began to spin. My vision clouded at the edges until darkness engulfed me. May Master forgive me, I prayed as my hands slipped from the rings and I slumped over at the man’s feet.

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[bctt tweet=”Read #excerpt of Unbroken by Kira Stone #BDSM #gay #erotica”]