CHAPTER NINETEEN
Pet
The front door opens, and we’re greeted by yet another naked female, save for the Agent Provocateur lingerie. She straightens her spine, thrusts out her tiny tits, and eyeballs my Master as if she were fucking him with her gaze alone. “Good evening, Sir.”
Ares tilts his chin. “Pollyanna.”
Pollyanna? What is she, fresh off the farm in Oklahoma?
“Right this way, Sir. Master Texas is expecting you.”
Ares gives a lazy tug on my collar, and I follow to the right of my Master and always a step behind, the way he taught me.
Pollyanna opens a door and gestures for us to enter. As if on autopilot, I take a step forward. He yanks on my leash. The collar digs painfully into my throat, and I cough and glare up at him. Ares glowers back, until I lower my gaze to the ground. Pollyanna just stands there, watching us, judging me. I can feel it in her unwavering gaze.
“Just a moment, Pet.” He turns to the submissive, who immediately bows her head. “I know I taught you better than that, little Polly.”
He trained her? Did he do all the unspeakable things to her that he does to me? Did he fuck Polly’s pussy? Is she a better submissive than me?
“Yes, Sir,” she says breathlessly, thrusting her tits out again. “Apologies, Sir.”
Ares appraises me. He pulls the cloak off my shoulders, and hands it to Polly. “Leave us.”
“Yes, Sir.” She curtseys and turns away, scurrying back to her position at the front door, her hands stroking the soft velvet. I want to tear it from her hands, but doing so would earn me a sound spanking, and though I’ve come to love the ease with which Ares throws me over his knee and spanks my ass until I’m screaming for mercy, I need my wits about me in this place. I don’t understand why he’s brought me here. Fear gnaws at my already frayed nerves, as if they were a chew toy in the mouth of a teething Doberman.
“Eyes on me, Pet.”
I snap my gaze to Sir and feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Did he guess my thoughts? Is my desire to pull every strand of fake blond hair from Pollyanna’s head written all over my face? Or is it fear he sees reflected in my gaze?
A chill runs the length of my spine, and my nipples brush against the soft silk of my gown. He pinches them, hard. So hard I cry out, but he presses a finger to my lips and tells me to be quiet, and he will reward me in kind. I take a deep breath and nod. And then I follow along blindly behind him as he tugs on my leash.
The door opens on an opulent great room filled with naked slaves and horny old men. Ares greets several of them. All have ridiculous names like Master Nightshade, Colonel Pain, the Captain, and my personal favorite,Muerte. Death.
It takes me a beat to realize who the last name belongs to. Then I’m hit with the stunning realization that I knew all along. The second I opened my eyes in that underground cell I stared Death in the face. Because whoever I was, she perished the day he stole me, and if Ares gave me back that life, if he set me free or sent me away, it would be the worst kind of hell. He may as well bury me now. Loving Ares will be the death of me. He’s made it that way.
“And who is this?” asks one of the men nearby. I feel his lecherous gaze on me, though I don’t meet it. I’m under strict orders not to make eye contact unless it’s with Sir. I don’t know how many sets of eyes roll over me with wanton expressions, but I know it makes my skin crawl.
“This is Pet. Say hello, Pet.”