“Do you still want to come? Don’t lie to me.”
“Y-yes, Master.”
By this point tears streamed down her cheeks. Anton laid the cane on the table and came back to her. He ran his tongue over the marks he’d left as she quivered beneath him. “Mmmm, you taste like pineapples. This is how you should always taste for me.”
He stood and moved so that his lips were next to her ear. “I’m going to fuck you now. But I’m not ready for you to come yet. If you come, I will know it, and I will make what you just experienced seem like an orgasm by comparison. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, Master.” She had an iron death grip on the railing.
“Good girl.”
She seemed so tuned into his every movement he was sure the sound of his zipper coming down must have been louder to her even than the cane slicing through the air before it made contact. She was exquisite warmth when he slid into her. She was so wet that it drove him to madness. She moaned and bucked against him as he rode her. He would never tire of fucking her.
“Do. Not. Come,” he ground out.
“Please, Master.”
“No. Do it and regret it.”
She stilled for a moment, getting control of herself, and then he began to move inside her again.
“I will make you live for the thrill of pleasing me,” he practically growled at her. “The only thing I want you to think about right now is my cock and how much you want your body to please me. If you think about anything else, there will be consequences. I may not be able to read your mind, but I will know if you are lying. And God help you if you lie to me.”
She let out a strangled whimper in response to this, pushing back against him as he fucked her. He eased slowly in and out of her. He wanted to drag it out as long as he could, and also because of the effect it had on her.
Finally when he’d had enough build up, he drove into her so hard she gasped and cried out from the force of it. He held her close against him as he emptied himself inside her.
Anton pulled out, zipped back up, and straightened his clothes.
“You can let go of the railing now.”
She let go, but she didn’t turn around. She was perfect. Maybe everything that had happened up to this moment was exactly right after all. Maybe she needed a bit of terror, a little motivation to submit to him so sweetly and fully. Thinking back, it was always a little rough in the beginning with a sub. Why should he think it would be any different with a genuine slave? In fact, he should have expected more resistance. It worked in his favor that she seemed so attracted to him.
But he was sure it wasn’t just attraction. This girl was a natural. He’d had experienced subs who often broke out of their role. They would joke during serious times or act like a brat in public venues and sometimes couldn’t follow the simplest instructions without complaint. But Annette didn’t break because there was no joke. It wasn’t a game. She was his absolutely. And she knew it.
He’d somehow thought it would be harder to bring her to this place. Surely it should take more punishment, more wooing. More something. He’d forgotten how powerful helpless arousal was in breaking a girl. He’d been out of this game too long.
“Master?” Her voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her.
“Yes, kiska?”
“Please will you let me come?”
He spun her to face him and raised her chin to force her eyes to his. “What did you think about while I was fucking you?”
“Your cock and pleasing you,” she said.
He searched for the lie, but he didn’t find it. “Good girl.”
Anton gripped the leash and led her back inside. He glanced at his watch. Only half an hour since he’d put the cream on her. Still a bit more time to play.
“Lie down on your stomach and spread your arms and legs out over your head like a big X.”
When she’d done as he requested he took a couple of spreader bars from the bed and cuffed her ankles in this spread-eagled position with one, and her wrists over her head in the same way with the other.
“Do you remember this from the party?” He showed her a thin steel toy.
She whimpered in response.
“Do you remember where it goes? Answer.”
“Y-yes, Master.”
He lubed the toy and slid it slowly into her ass. “Relax, pet. You have to surrender completely to it if you want it to feel good.”
She relaxed and after a few minutes she started to move with it.
“Good girl. Are you ready to come?”
“Yes, Master. Please.”
Anton took another toy from the bed. It was a metal ball about the size of his palm. He twisted it across a seam that ran through the middle, and the ball began to vibrate.
“Lift up.”
She lifted her hips slightly off the bed, and he placed the vibrating ball under her and between her legs. Then he went back to sliding the other toy in and out of her ass. She pressed harder against the ball, grinding into it.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Please please please.”
“All right. You’ve suffered long enough. Come for me.”
She let herself go then with a long, guttural moan, riding the vibrating ball until she couldn’t take any more pleasure. Anton took both toys away.
He watched as she lay on the bed, completely spent. “Are you hungry?” He almost always fed a sub after playing with her, particularly if it had been a while since she’d eaten. It seemed to help ground them and bring them back to the normal world—not that any part of Annette’s world was normal. It would be soon enough. Anything repeated enough times could become normal.
Even in his most intense 24/7 relationships, there had been many moments when he and his pet were just people, not defined by roles. That would never happen here. He made the law here, and he had all the power to enforce it. Yet even as he thought this, he knew deep down that if she obeyed him sweetly enough for a long enough time that she would have more power in his heart than she could ever know.
“Come with me.” He helped her up and led her on the chain to the door.
“What about clothes?”
“What about them? If I want you naked, you will be naked. There is no one in the house who hasn’t seen you already.”
It was a token protest at best—probably the last vestige of the classic female I don’t want to feel like a slut before capitulating to whatever he wanted. It seemed very important to women not to feel like sluts—maybe because they were afraid of being thrown away and abandoned. He wanted Annette to feel like whatever he told her to feel like. And slut was one of those things.
He tugged on the leash again, and she followed him without another complaint. He stopped in the kitchen. Phyllis was inside finishing a raspberry glaze on some pastry or another she’d been baking most of the afternoon.
“I need a submarine sandwich and a water in the game room.”
The older woman seemed like she would give a smart retort, but then she noticed Annette. She wasn’t able to cover the shock on her face at seeing his girl nude with a collar and a leash.
Phyllis turned back to him, glaring. “What do you want on it?”
“Load it up with everything. Mayo, Meats, cheeses, lettuce, tomato, onions, olives, everything we’ve got. The works. Do you like vinegar on your subs, pet?”