“Yes, Sir?”
“Doesn’t Pet have the prettiest little pussy you’ve ever seen?” Ares walks back to the wall cabinet and chooses an oiled black flogger, striking the palm of his hand with the falls as if testing their weight, and the amount of pain he’ll be able to inflict.
Israel turns his cold, bright gaze on me. His eyes give my body a perfunctory once-over before landing back on his former Master. “Yes, Sir. She does.”
“Couldn’t you just eat her up?” Ares teases, his mouth curling in a lopsided grin. Israel stares blankly at him. My Dominant raises a brow, as if he’s losing patience. “Eat her, Israel.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “No.”
“Quiet, Pet, or I’ll give you to Master Texas to ride around his track.” He steps closer, and lashes me with his flogger, right over my pussy. I cry out, and glower at him, but I don’t dare say another word. “Would you like that, my little whore? To have a butt plug shoved up your ass and a bit in your mouth? Trotting around the racetrack with your little pony ears and a lovely shiny tail?”
“No,” I sob as the falls of the flogger land heavily on my inner thighs. Israel stands and moves in front of me, awaiting direction like a good little slave. I hate him. With all of my being I hate him as much as I hate my Sir right now.
“No, what?”
“No, Sir. Please?”
“Then shut your fucking mouth, and let Israel eat your goddamn pussy until you come all over his face.”
Israel glances at Ares, who pushes on his shoulders to suggest he should kneel. He does, and crawls across what’s left of the space between us. He pauses right in front of my crotch. A look of pure hatred flashes in his gaze before he schools his features into that of a placid, docile slave.
“Eat her cunt, Israel.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I buck and kick against my restraints, but it’s useless. I’m tied to a fucking cross. I’m exposed, and whether I want this man’s mouth on me is irrelevant, because it’s what Sir wants.
To my surprise, Israel’s mouth is gentle. He doesn’t taste me and shudder in revulsion. He isn’t brutal, but instead licks at my wet folds expertly, darting his tongue over my clit, but never giving it the attention it truly needs. I squirm, both attempting to escape and move closer. The bastard is teasing me. I thrust my hips forward and a frustrated moan escapes my mouth. Ares and Texas chuckle, as if my torment is humorous to them.
“He’s very talented with his mouth, isn’t he, Pet?” Ares moves closer. I glare at him. I hate when he provokes me deliberately like this. “Answer me.”
“Yes, Sir,” I bite out. I want to scream at the injustice of it, but my Sir is right. Israel knows exactly how to pleasure a woman with his mouth, and my legs are shaking in their restraints.
Ares grabs my hair and pulls it back. The roots ache with his brute force. “I don’t like your attitude, Pet. Does it disgust you that a slave I fucked is eating you out right now? Is that your fucking problem?”
“Yes. I hate him.”
“No one’s asking you to love him, Pet. Just let him bring you to orgasm.”
“I hate you.”
Ares grins. “I know.” He shushes me with a finger pressed to my lips, and pinches my nipple. Pleasure arcs through me. I gasp, on the verge of orgasm, but he lets go too soon and Israel—as if anticipating my impending release—slows the laving of his tongue on my slick flesh. My orgasm is gone almost as quickly as it crept up.
Sir picks up a device that looks a lot like a hand-held mixer without the blade attachment. He switches it on, and a loud buzzing like that of a tattoo gun fills the dungeon. Israel quits lapping at my abused pussy long enough to look up at my Master.
“I want your fingers in her cunt, and your mouth on her clit. Do you understand, little Achilles?”
Israel inhales sharply, and the look he gives Ares makes my stomach twist with jealousy.Achilles. Israel gets a demigod for a pet name, and I’m a house pet. I’ve never been so full of hate in all my life. Not even in those first few days when I loathed Ares’ touch.
“Do you understand?” Ares asks his former slave again.
“Yes, Master.”
Israel grabs my leg, and I try to yank out of his grasp, but my restraints mean I’m not going anywhere. He puts his mouth on me again, and I buck and cry out. “No!”
“No, Pet?”
I sob. “Don’t let him touch me.”