When Anton returned, the shower had stopped running. He laid everything out on the bed and went to sit in a plush chair in the corner. He’d barely sat down when the door opened, sending steam pouring out into the room.
She glanced at the bed, her eyes widening a fraction, but she didn’t say anything. Nor did she look at him. Instead, she did exactly as he told her, kneeling at his feet with her legs spread, eyes down, palms up on her knees. It was his favorite submissive position to put pets in. It was open and yielding, vulnerable, and very nice to look at.
“Sit up straight,” Anton said. “I don’t allow my property to slouch. You will always present yourself to me in a manner that is pleasing.”
She straightened.
Anton checked his watch and took the tube of arousal cream from his pocket and squeezed out a generous amount. He wanted to take her to the edge of the limits of the cream before he let her come. He reached down and massaged it into her cunt, careful to get plenty on her clit, then he closed the tube and got up to go wash his hands.
“Stay,” he commanded.
When he returned, she was exactly as he’d left her. He was surprised she hadn’t squirmed or asked questions or started bargaining yet. Maybe the reality of her situation had finally dawned on her after her daily phone call.
Anton was sure she knew she’d have to win his favor in order to keep her sister safe. Janette was such a loose cannon. He still regretted letting her go. She posed far too much risk to walk free, but her sister’s sacrifice had been noble and brave. He had a weak spot for those qualities in a woman. His best subs had been that way. Usually it went with honesty. Unfortunately, not this time.
He’d weighed the dangers many times in his mind. Would it be better to release Annette and hope both of them were so grateful they kept their mouths shut, or keep things as they were? It didn’t matter which was a better strategy. There was no way he would ever release her.
“Do you want me to let you go?” he asked.
“Let me go where?”
“Home.”
She didn’t reply.
“I asked a question. I also expect proper address.”
“I’m here in trade for my sister, Master,” she said. As if that answered the question.
The cream was beginning to kick in. She’d started to squirm the tiniest bit as if by doing so she could somehow make it stop. He knew perfectly well what he was doing, asking these questions right when the cream kicked in. He wanted to make her verbally affirm over and over that she wanted him. That she wanted to serve him. That she desperately needed to be his slave and his whore. The more she said it out loud, even if under the effects of the cream, the more she would believe in it. He needed her to believe in it.
He’d learned a long time ago that saying things out loud made them more real. It was part of why it was so important that she address him as Master. Over and over that word had to fall out of her mouth every single day a hundred times or more a day until she truly saw herself fully as his property. Not just a hostage or prisoner or some exchange for her sister, but his absolute fuck toy.
“I could have mercy on you and send you home right this minute. Do you want to put your clothes on and go home to your sister?”
She whimpered as the cream came into its full powers, destroying any ability to reason she might otherwise possess.
“I will make you an offer. You can put your clothes on right now and go home with your sister, or I can make you come harder than you’ve ever come before in your life. Do you want to come or do you want to go home?”
Anton knelt on the carpet behind her and pulled her possessively toward him. He rained kisses down the side of her throat while he fondled her tits. “What do you want, slut?”
Another whimper. An internal struggle. Finally a surrender. “I want to come, Master.”
“Good girl.”
No doubt she’d spent these few moments rationalizing everything. Maybe she thought he wasn’t offering real freedom—he wasn’t. Maybe she thought it was some trick to punish her—undecided. Or that she could convince him to let her go at another time when the powerful cream setting all her nerve endings on fire had worn off. But of course the next time he asked her, it would be with the cream, too. It would always be with the cream so she chose him over and over, no matter how wrong she knew it was.
“I can give you so much pleasure. I can drive you insane with it. All you have to do is obey me, and you will be rewarded. You aren’t the first woman I’ve trained like this. I know you better than you know you. You need to surrender to me. Your sister is a convenient excuse. I bet you touched yourself after we met the other night in the club.”
She stiffened at that. He knew it! Of course she’d touched herself after all the dirty things he’d said to her—and all the dirty promises she’d teased him with. Still, he wanted her admit it. “Didn’t you? No lies. Remember what happens to liars.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Yes, you touched yourself thinking of me?”
She nodded.
“Good girl.”
“Master, please,” she whined.
“Soon. I don’t like impatience.”
Anton rose from the chair and picked up a thin leather collar with a silver ring off the bed. He put it around her throat. “You will only take this off to shower or swim and when I take you out of the house, Yes?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good.”
He took a silver chain-link leash from the bed and linked it through the ring on her collar. “Come.”
She got up and followed him outside onto the balcony. They had plenty of privacy out here, but doing this outside in broad daylight would make her feel exposed, watched. It was a bonus if Lindsay drove up or if Brian or Gabe or even Phyllis stepped outside and glanced back up at the house.
He positioned her where he wanted her next to the railing. “Spread your legs, lean forward, and hold onto the top of the railing. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Anton could chain her up for everything he wanted to do, but he felt training took better if they were made to submit. There was nothing sweeter than a woman obediently holding onto a bar or railing and taking her punishment. No restraints. Just will. His will to control. Her will to obey.
He selected a long bamboo cane from the bed and returned outside to her. The bamboo had the perfect amount of flexibility and spring to it. It would sting and leave the most beautiful welts. He wasn’t an extreme sadist like Brian, but Anton liked to mark what was his.
The best way to get a sub to like the cane was to make her associate it with arousal. He’d never had the benefit of this near-magical cream before, but if he got a girl excited before caning her every time, eventually, bringing the cane out created a Pavlovian reaction. She’d be wet and aroused and ready to be fucked before the bamboo even lashed her flesh.
Without warning, he struck the back of her thighs. She cried out and looked back at him shocked—as if it were some betrayal.
“It’s not a punishment, kiska. Say, Thank you, Master.”
“T-thank you, Master.”
He laid down a second perfect set of welts next to the first. She gasped. “Again.”
“T-thank you, Master.”
Three more came down across her ass, and each time he made her thank him for it.