She rests her head on the edge of the tub and cries, covering her face with her hands.Good. I want her to relax and let go of everything. Her former life, her inhibitions, of all the bullshit society deems safe and sane. I want her to know that I can give her pleasure, or I can rain down fire and pain upon every inch of her flesh. Either way, I’ll accept nothing less than her total submission.
I take my thumb and forefinger and pull her hood back, exposing her clit to me. It’s beautiful—not too small, not too big. It’s just right. She lets her hands fall against the sides of the tub, closes her eyes, and swallows hard.
“This is a very pretty little pussy. I’m going to enjoy teasing it.”
As predicted, her eyes flash open, and she attempts to shove me from between her legs.Yes, Pet, I’m going to have you, and no, there isn’t a goddamn thing you can do about it.
“Uh-uh-uh.” I smack again, but the tub is nearly full now, and the blow is dulled by the water surrounding her body. “Lie back.”
I give her clit an angry little pinch, and she scampers back so quickly that more water sloshes over the edge of the tub. I slide my fingers into position again and jerk her clit, pulling the sensitive flesh surrounding the bundle of nerves up and down as if I’m sliding the foreskin back and forth over a tiny cock. Her legs shake; her body shudders. It’s been a long time since anyone touched her this way. I can tell because despite her anger, her loathing, and her fear, she’s eager to come for me.
When her mouth is parted, and her legs shake uncontrollably, I stop everything I’m doing, remove my hand from the water, and stand.
She glares at me and launches herself forward, slapping wet fists against my T-shirt. “You asshole! You fucking asshole!”
I laugh and let her little temper tantrum abate, but when it appears as if she’s not going to stop, I grab a fistful of her hair and yank her head back. “Behave, Pet. You didn’t really think I’d let you come that easily, did you? What have you done to earn it?”
Her head is tilted so far back, her lush lips parted and flushed with arousal. My own mouth is so close that I could easily kiss her now. But I don’t kiss slaves. It’s far too personal a thing.
I tighten my grip on her hair, and she cries out. “How exactly have you pleased me? So far, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass. You come when I say you come, and before you get any clever ideas, there are cameras in your cell. I’ve got eyes on you twenty-four hours a day, little one; if you touch yourself without my permission, your punishment will be so much worse than me rubbing your pink little pussy in the tub and getting you so worked up you’re begging your captor to make you come.”
With these words, she loses it.
Something inside her breaks. It’s pride, most likely. That’s why I chose those words specifically, because I knew they’d bring her shame and humiliation.
She sags against me. I let go of her hair, and let her fall to her knees, fall apart in the bottom of my tub, because she needs some kind of release, and it will be a long time before I make her come.
CHAPTER SIX
Pet
He lets me cry untilthe water turns cold. My tears make him hard. I don’t know why. Maybe he wishes to drink in my humiliation, to savor it because he’s a psychopath. Either way, I can’t stop the tears, and when he drains the tub and hauls me up by the arm. I let him, because what choice do I have?
He pats my body dry with a soft towel. While he’s drying my legs, I think about kicking him in the face, but my feet already hurt, and are raw with blisters. There’s enough pain in my heart, in my body, in my soul right now, that I don’t wish to invite more. Everything about this man invites pain. If I’d met him in a bar, or on the street, I’d think he was exactly the kind of trouble I wanted to get into, and I’d probably follow him anywhere if he smiled.Most women would. But I didn’t meet him at a bar. I didn’t meet him on the street, and yet, I’m still following him.
The bastard rubs some kind of ointment on my scrapes and bruises. As if he actually cares for my wellbeing. He lathers my wounds in ointment and places several butterfly bandages over the gash on my arm. It stings, but I know that smell. I don’t know why, but I’m familiar with it. In my mind’s eye, I’m hit with a spotlight. A flash of brightness in the dark, and the feeling of spinning out of control, and then it’s gone.