He made sure Alana didn’t hear any news at all. He didn’t want to upset her. Perhaps someday he would allow her to contact her family, but only when the two of them came to a very different understanding. For now, he was all the family she needed.
He allowed her to sleep next to him at night, though still chained, of course. He kept her tethered to the ringbolt in the wall when in his bed, but with enough slack in the restraints for her to sleep comfortably. Sometimes he would fuck her just before falling asleep, and drift off with his cock still buried inside of her.
Often, he would awaken in the night and it would take a moment to realize she was really there beside him. After years of dreaming of her, living vicariously through her films, it was still hard to believe she was there in the flesh.
If he awoke with an erection, which he usually did, he would take her then and there. Sometimes he liked to rouse her by straddling her chest and forcing his hard cock into her mouth. She would wake up spluttering and choking, but he would hold her still, forcing her to take his cock and make him come. He wouldn’t withdraw until he had shot his load deep into her throat.
Other times he would flip her over and fuck her like a dog, not even caring if she woke up or not. Of course, she always did wake up. Sometimes she would cry out in pain if he entered her too quickly. “That’s your fault, Alana,” he would tell her. “If you were a proper slave, you would always be wet and ready whenever I wanted you.”
One night, the moon woke him some time after midnight. It had risen high, filling the room with silvery light. Mark lifted himself on his elbow to admire his sleeping prize. As if feeling his gaze upon her, she opened her eyes.
“I need to fuck you,” he announced, his erection instant at the mere thought. Then another idea entered his head as he looked at his naked, beautiful slave girl. He reached for the lamp beside the bed, since he’d need more light than the moon could provide for what he had in mind.
Turning back to Alana, he said, “Come for me, slave. I want to watch you masturbate.”
She looked startled, a pretty pink flush moving over her cheeks. “What?”
“You heard me. Make yourself come. Use your hand. I want to watch. And don’t forget to ask for permission to orgasm.”
When she didn’t immediately obey, he slapped her across the face. “Do what the fuck I tell you, slave,” he said in a hard voice. “Don’t make me ask again.”
Tears welled in her eyes, her hand flying to her cheek. But after a moment, she spread her legs dutifully. Licking her fingers, she dropped her slender hand between them.
Mark shifted so he could see her cunt better. As she began to touch herself, her eyes fluttered shut.
“No,” Mark said. “Keep your eyes open and focused on your Master. And do it like you mean it. I want a good show. If I’m not pleased, I’ll put you in the cage.”
That got her attention. She really hated that cage. She stroked herself, her eyes locked on his. After a while, she began to breathe faster, her chest rising and falling as she frigged herself in rapid, swirling strokes.
Mark fisted his cock and massaged himself as he watched his beautiful slave bring herself to the brink of orgasm.
“Oh,” she breathed, her body suddenly tensing. She continued to rub herself, her eyes going unfocused, her mouth slackening. All at once, she shuddered in a series of small spasms, her fingers flying over her swollen cunt.
Watching her come made him come, too, and Mark aimed his shooting ejaculate over her breasts, catching both erect nipples with his flow. Her eyes were closed, her hair wild on the pillow, a pink orgasmic flush over her chest and throat. Jesus Christ, she was so fucking hot.
Then, all at once, he realized what she’d forgotten. She would have to pay, the very naughty, naughty girl. He smiled cruelly as he regarded her, though he spoke with feigned gentleness.
“Oh dear,” he said softly. “What did my slave girl forget to do?”
Her eyes flew open. “Sir?” she whispered, the fear ripe in her voice as she focused on his face.
“Think, cunt. What did I tell you to do before you came? What must you always do before coming?”
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. I for—” she began.
He cut her off. “Do you know what happens to a slut who comes without permission?”
No answer.
He grabbed her by the throat, just hard enough to get her attention. “I asked you a question.” He squeezed harder, his thumb and index finger pressing into the soft flesh just below her jaw.