I slammed the journal closed and tossed it in the box at my feet. This was insane. But part of me didn’t think so. A large, throbbing part of me wanted to barge into her room and give her exactly what she’d been fantasizing about because from the moment I’d spied her on the street, she’d been the only fantasy occupying my thoughts.
I couldn’t do it though. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let her mess with my head like this. Instead, I focused on the other content of the boxes—books. Lots of books.
I took a couple of them, figuring I’d hold onto them to give her back as rewards. Usually, I wouldn’t allow outside media unless it helped to advance a slave’s training—like BDSM erotica. But I found myself wanting to do something, to make amends for the plan I’d set in action.
Yeah—a book was just the thing to make up for taking away a girl’s freedom and turning her into a slave.
Nothing was going to make up for it. She would come to obey me, and she’d already demonstrated that her body responded to me, but deep down, she’d hate me. Always.
And that was the reality check I’d needed. I wasn’t the Derek of her fantasies, however dark they might be. A long time and a lot of shit had happened since I’d been that Derek. And there was one man ultimately responsible for all of it—her father. And he had to pay.
I wasn’t certain I could feel remorse anymore, but something akin to it hit me. I didn’t want to use her like this, but I didn’t have a choice. The plan had been laid, and I would do what was expected of me. I would turn the most enticing woman I’ve ever known into the most appealing slave a master could desire.
I left her alone until the next morning. It was a small favor and a punishment at the same time—though I didn’t know precisely what I was punishing her for. Making me care? Was that even possible? Or was I just off my game with my revenge so close and thrown off by the discoveries in her journal?
Still, the few hours to herself wasn’t likely to set her training back any given that she was still cloistered in the room by herself, but it would give her mind and body a rest. A break before I did my damnedest to break her.
And I would succeed. I always did.
Leaving her alone though wasn’t entirely a gift. It always seemed to me that leaving her alone was in a way a worse punishment to her than a spanking. The way the tension seemed to leave her body when I walked in when it should have been skyrocketing higher; how she leaned into my hand when I caressed her cheek—all signs that the solitude was like torture to her.
Morning now, I opened the door and stepped inside. The sigh of relief she didn’t know I saw when I walked into the room did strange things to me. It made me imagine for just a moment she was glad to see me, and not that she was just glad to not be left alone in her cage. Maybe she worried I’d forget about her and leave her there to starve? Or maybe she was so starved for human companionship that even the monster I was, was better than no one at all.
I fed her breakfast, pleased that she didn’t fight me, and then it was time to start pushing her hard. She needed to be well-prepared, and after reading through that god damned journal, I wanted this over with as quickly as possible.
“Get in the shower, pet,” I told her when I’d placed the lid back on the tray.
She hesitated—the first time that morning—but too quickly, she did as she was told, following on her knees behind me while I considered her abnormally cooperative behavior at the moment. It was clearly an act, but to what end? Given her uniqueness, I wasn’t quick to jump to any conclusion. Of course, it was entirely possible—and most likely—that she was hoping her good behavior would result in me leaving quickly.
However, she didn’t actually like being left alone, and her hot, little body certainly enjoyed my company. So, it was possible she was only trying to avoid giving me a reason to punish her. If so, I was more than happy to find out just how far she’d go to avoid the belt or a spanking—both of which shot a jolt of arousal to my cock at the thought.
For the first time though, there was a pang of guilt there with it. And it was time to shut that useless emotion down. I couldn’t set her free, even if I wanted to, which right now, with her naked and on her knees in front of me, I had no desire to do. And that meant the only option was to make sure she was ready. It was far kinder than going easy on her when that would only lead to her suffering greatly at the hand—and whip—of her new master. And if my cock happened to benefit from the training she would need, where was the harm in that?