Starting over as Asher Lavrov

*Author's note*

*And the story continues...*

___

Ashen didn't know what to make of all the scene he had bypassed as he aimlessly walked through the corridor. They all faded, slipping away like water through cupped hands.

He walked on, mind reeling from the glimpses of many erotic lives and worlds beyond imagining. How long he traveled, he couldn't say. Time seemed meaningless in this place of swirling energy and fragmented realities.

Suddenly, he stopped. Something had changed. A new reality was forming before him, but this one felt... different. More real. He could almost reach out and touch it.

Ashen had half-expected it to fade away like the others, but this particular lingered and felt more real by the minute. He didn't know why it did, but maybe that was because it was compatible with him.

Suddenly, a voice whispered in Ashen's mind, the familiar voice of his goddess. "You have found a compatible reality. You have chosen your first odyssey," Carabosse intoned.

"Off you go, little husband."

As if on cue, the walls of the tunnel began to spin and spin and spin, and just like that, Ashen tumbled and sunk into another reality different from his own; sucked up into someone's erotic life. "No! No! Noooo!" He yelled.

___

Asher jerked upright, his chair creaking. "Fuck," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

'I just closed my eyes for a minute. What the hell was that? Me, a damn elf prince? My hair all shiny, ears pointy as knives. Prancing around in a shiny tunnel. Seven goddesses all lined up, waiting to be my brides. What kind of fucked-up dream is this?'

'Then that hallway. Why was I falling? Tumbling head over heels? It must all be some sick joke. Besides, I'm Asher, not Ashen... but it felt so real. The wind in my face, the panic in my gut.'

Asher shook his head, trying to clear it. The office came into focus – he was still there, not in some Lovecraft horror. But to be seeing elves and goddesses while working? Maybe he needed to lay off the late-night fantasy novels.

It had all come to him as a dream, but Ashen, the elven prince of Sylvandar was now Asher, a fetish club owner. He had no memories of being an elf. He thought it was merely a dream and that he was and had always been Asher Lavrov.

___

Asher's life was singularly the greatest life ever fathomed, for two reasons. One, he was dead inside, the events of his childhood leaving him a hollow shell of a person. He was delightfully, wonderfully empty, devoid of pain, sorrow, love, rage, and the entire rest of the spectrum.

Two, he owned and lived in a fetish club. His small apartment resided in the back of a place called Sulfur's, where all manner of debauchery and sinful gluttony took place.

His bed was a monster fetish bed, complete with a cage beneath it. He didn't just play in the world of domination and submission.

He lived it. He had his own private dungeon adjacent to his bedroom adjacent to his playground and even when he took a break from working in the midst of the night, he could still hear the lustful house music pulsing through the walls, driving the blood in his veins that never reacted to anything else.

He ruled that world, teaching safety courses on play styles, driving the fringe edges happily.

You see, Asher was the perfect dominant, the perfect master, because of the very fact that he was forever cold inside. His patience was never ending and he adored to teach, loved to train.

But this wouldn't be a very good story if he had been allowed to stay like that, would it? His life would have stayed that perfect cold emptiness where he reigned like a god and a king. He had started branching his business out, building night clubs and dance clubs. He was always horny and never went home alone.

But maybe you've guessed already what happens next. Maybe you already know that life doesn't stay that clean, that perfect, even for someone like him who had perfect control over everything including his life, submissives, and slaves in training. Control was his drug.

And then one night, his world went upside down. I'll give you one guess what sentence comes next. It's three words.

He met her.

————

It was an open door night tonight. Now, sometimes Asher's brother, Ivory, would come and play at the club because he kind of owned it with him. He didn't own it so much anymore because he was getting married, and his interest had only ever been mostly capital to begin with.

So he'd given Asher full reign lately because he just didn't have the time anymore, and they both knew Asher was more than ready to deal with the stress and decisions now. But sometimes he still played. Not on open door nights, though, because he hated those.

They were when Asher let people in to try to find outsiders who might like to become full-time membership card owners. You see, when he kept things mostly exclusive, people could play harder and darker kinks on private nights.

But that meant he had to let people come and play on light nights to get to know them. And he loved those nights.

Sure, he had to watch everything for safety and heavily monitor the private rooms, but it was worth it. There were usually more people, more lust, more fun.

Even more enjoyable was the fact that there was also this air of shyness on these nights. Newbies would play with their clothes on, light exhibition displays to test the waters. It made him glad to see it, happy that people felt safe enough to try out their curiosities in his safe haven.

So when he saw her dead in the center of his open play area, wearing absolutely nothing except for a sash that read "birthday girl," he stopped dead in his tracks.

Newbie shyness? Not with her.

She was manacled by light chains hanging from the ceiling, and her dom paced around her with a light whip, flicking her tits to make her squeal. His name was Matt, and he was one of Asher's regular players.

He gave Asher a look that said he was having the time of his life. And then he lifted an eyebrow and gestured with another look that blatantly said, "Hey, want to play?"

Fuck Asher, but he definitely did. She had this beautiful sheet of straight ice blonde hair and these eyes that looked at Asher with excited fear when Matt noticed him. She wanted more fun and he wanted to give that. So this wasn't even a closed scene. This girl was open for more people.

Even Deirdre hadn't been so bold when she first stepped foot through his doors. Even she had tested the waters first. This girl was a wild flame of pure recklessness and delight.

Matt grinned at Asher when he stepped to her side and pinched her nipples so that she cried out. "Oh, please! Please!"

He laughed. "It's her 21st birthday so she just made your cut to walk through your doors."

Asher smiled at her. "Barely legal and oh, so bold." He slapped her tits, one time each, then pinched a few of the stripes Matt had already left on her thighs. Matt was a fun-loving Dom, a light player who just enjoyed a one night stand every now and again.

"Oh, god..." She was whining beneath his touch, arching desperately for more. Oh, she was nothing at all like any other submissive who came to bow to him. Those loved to please, craved to serve his needs. This one thrust her hips in shameless chase of her own pleasure, untrained and wild in his hands.

Matt held out the whip and Asher took it with a laugh, swinging it up against her pussy so that she shrieked and jumped.

She thrashed in her manacles so that he had to force her back to position with his arm around her.

"She's not a very still little thing, is she?" He said it conversationally and she closed her eyes, moaning to his objectification, shrieking when he flicked the whip against her pussy again.

God, she had even left that bared and offered for use and play. He took advantage. If she wanted it tormented, he would certainly oblige.

Matt grinned and drove his fingers into the same pussy Asher had just hurt. Her cry rose in both volume and desperate sexuality so that they both laughed at her.

"Definitely not. She's untrained and greedy as fuck, but she's a horny little birthday slut, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes, sir." She answered it breathlessly, needy for pleasure.

And that's when Asher saw it, the thing that would damn him.

"Look at me," he said sharply, slapping her cheek to get her attention.

___

*Author's note*

*Don't leave without dropping a powerstone or two, please*

*keep author motivated to work!!*

***