Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
He gave a sudden cry and then shuddered. A warm gush of come slid down her throat before she could even manage to swallow. His fingers loosened their grip as he sighed, his body relaxing.
She lifted her head, letting his shaft fall from her lips. He rewarded her with a brilliant smile. “Good girl,” he said. “You got the message.”
“Yes, Sir.” She smiled back at him, glad she’d pleased him. At the same time, nervous butterflies were swooping in her belly.
He scooted into a sitting position against the headboard. “Come closer so I can take off your cuffs.”
Ellen crawled to him and held out her wrists. He unclipped them and tossed them to the bed. “We’re going to explore your sexual responsiveness and orgasmic control today. And trust me when I tell you, you’re going to earn every single orgasm I give you. But first, bring me my cane.”
Chapter 10
Ellen stood at attention, feet shoulder-width apart, fingers laced behind her head. She had flawless skin, smooth and creamy, perfect for marking. Though she was curvy, her waist was trim, her legs sculpted with defined muscles. Her biceps and triceps were toned and her breasts, while ample, were high and firm.
Her face was a mask of submissive calm but Damon could feel her tension simmering just below the surface. He could see it in her dilated pupils and the slight tremble of her arms. She was afraid but determined, the very definition of bravery.
He walked slowly around her, tapping the cane against his palm. With a flick of his wrist, he brought the cane down across her ass. Ellen hissed her pain as a long, angry welt rose on her flesh. His recent climax notwithstanding, the rush of power and his sadistic pleasure in her erotic pain hardened Damon’s cock.
“Thank me,” he commanded.
“Thank you, Sir,” she replied breathlessly.
He returned to stand in front of her. There were tears in her eyes, which she blinked away as he regarded her. Despite her pain, or more likely because of it, her rosy nipples were fully erect. On a whim, he reached between her legs to cup her cunt. It was hot as a furnace. As he stroked the slick folds, her eyes widened, her lips parting.
“I like it that you’re wet,” he said. “You should always be wet for me.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
Pulling his hand away, he brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled her intoxicating scent. Color splashed into her cheeks. It amused him that this trained sex slave was such a blushing flower.
“Lower your arms and hold up your breasts for my cane,” he directed. “Keep your eyes on me.”
With a shuddering breath, Ellen obeyed. Again, without warning, he flicked the cane sharply over the tops of her breasts.
This time she cried out, more tears filling those pretty eyes. A pink welt rose across both breasts.
“Ask me for another.”
Her mouth moved but no sound came, save for her breath audibly hitching in her throat. He furrowed his brow, fixing her with a stern glare.
She swallowed visibly as she girded herself. “Please, Sir.” Her voice quavered. “May I have another?”
He smiled. “You may.”
He painted a second welt across both globes, just above her plump nipples. Her face twisted with pain, her breath quick and shallow. But when he reached between her legs and slid a finger inside her heat, a gush of moisture slicked his palm.
“Such a dirty little girl,” he said, amused and aroused in equal measure.
Before she had time to react, he struck her a third time, this time catching her nipples.
Again, she cried out, her hands flying to cover her breasts.
“I didn’t tell you to move your hands,” he barked. “Back in position. Now.”
Whimpering, she again held her breasts in offering with trembling hands. A single tear rolled down her cheek.
Usually impervious to slaves’ tears, Damon found himself curiously moved by hers. Lowering the cane, he gently thumbed it away. “It’s okay, Ellen. You’re okay. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”
She drew in a shuddery breath and exhaled.
“Better,” he said, smiling.
She managed a small smile in return.
Satisfied, he announced, “I’m going to hop in the shower.” He glanced around the bedroom. “There’s some salve in my gear bag you can use on those welts. Then you will put away our things and make the bed. When that’s done, you’ll make us some breakfast. I like a spoon of sugar in my coffee. No cream. I like my scrambled eggs soft and my bacon crisp.”
Without waiting for a response, he strode to the bathroom. There were perks to this whole Master/slave thing that went beyond the obvious delights of having a naked slave girl eager to do your sexual bidding. Self-sufficient to a fault, he wasn’t used to having someone else cook and clean for him. But he could definitely get used to it.