Pulling out of Keelie, I groaned. Where was the fun anymore? Nothing seemed to satisfy me. I thought bringing in Ramona to spice things up might bring the light back to my girl’s eyes, but all it did was prove that I couldn’t satisfy her anymore. Keelie got more pleasure out of Ramona feasting between her legs than she ever did with me. Maybe that’s why Ramona’s punishment was a little harsher than it should’ve been. I was jealous—envious that she could get Keelie to moan and scream louder than I ever could. Yet, Keelie was still devoted to me, doing whatever I asked of her, no matter how degrading it was.
The jealousy burned inside me, building and building until it almost consumed me. I was maddened by my own inability to satisfy my submissive, something no Master should endure, and yet she still spurred me on.
“Please, Master, don’t stop until you come.”
There was a long-necked beer on my dresser and I picked it up, drawing the cool liquid into my mouth until it fueled every cell in my body. Even the fading bruises from my punishments couldn’t get me going.
“Master, what’s wrong?”
Her hand slid up my arm, and I could barely feel her fingers, like I was numb to everything around me.
Her hand curled around my cock, then she turned around, assuming the position I loved the most.
The fact that she knew that it was my favorite, made everything worse.
She was the perfect submissive—and I just couldn’t please her anymore. I’d broken her in too well. Now none of my punishments surprised her. I missed the astonished gasps and moans they pulled out of her… I fucking thrived on it.
Reactively, I spanked her ass, and the fake moan that followed only made me see red. She deserved what was coming…
She wasn’t even wet, and I knew it. She got off on pain, but this kind of pain… this would be on a different level. Her ass jiggled as I fucked her raw, my thrusts aggressive and punishing. Every once in a while, I gave her ass a painful slap, and she did that cute little gasp she thought I loved. I used to, when I thought it was real, but after watching her bite her lip, and then follow it up with what sounded like a true mimic of an outcry of pleasure from a woman we watched in a porno flick two days ago, enraged me.
The satisfaction was no longer there. I needed someone who wasn’t going to be so easy, somebody who would fight me and not give in. Someone who didn’t fake her pleasure.
Pulling out of her again, I pushed her away, chugging the last of my beer bottle before throwing it at the wall.
“GET OUT!” I raged.
“Master?” she asked weakly.
“I said, get the fuck out!”
She cautiously got up from the bed, her wrists weak from the few hours I had her in cuffs the other day.
I wouldn’t even look at her. She was just not what I wanted at that moment—she wasn’t who I desired.
“Master, did I do something wrong?”
She should’ve left when I asked her to. Gripping her by the throat, I made her look up into my eyes, enjoying the tiniest bit of fear that clouded them. She feared me, but she feared losing me even more.
“Everything,” I said, my voice laced with disdain and rage.
She looked confused, but I wasn’t about to tell her why she fucked up. She’d have to learn that on her own.
“Master, you’re hurting me.”
My fingers unclenched, leaving her gasping for breath.
“Get out now,” I said one last time. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”
Naked, she quickly ran from the room, not even bothering to pick up her clothes. She knew I was angry with her, and when Master says to leave… you leave.
A few seconds later, someone appeared in my doorway. I heard them shuffle in, but I didn’t bother looking up. I figured it was her coming back for more… more punishments… more hell.
Hell was an integral part of my life. I fucking lived and breathed it, more so now since that day in the cabin.
“I said get the fuck out!” I roared.
“Is that how you talk to all your women?” an unfamiliar voice asked.