Yes, Master, page 21
“I’m hearing a lot of protests. That’s going to change once I do this.”
He moved fast for a big man. One moment he was at her side. The next he’d returned to his place at her feet and was yanking off her slacks. Her fingers clenched as cool air touched her legs. How had he broken free from her grip so easily?
Maybe because she hadn’t tried that hard to hold on to him, or maybe because his determination trumped hers.
“Relax, slave,” he muttered and trailed her now useless garment over her legs. “As long as you do as I command, you’ll find I’m a benevolent master. I demand total obedience but reward it.”
His features were darkening, his voice digging deeper into her. Her body felt so heavy she wasn’t sure she could still move.
That strange, incomplete smile returned as he took hold of her ankles and drew her legs apart. Anticipation lanced her and she moaned.
“I’m going to define our relationship so you understand your new role—so you begin to understand yourself.” He pressed his knuckles against the insides of her thighs near her knees. “But you can’t truly embrace that role until you understand what I mean by reward. Are you ready for that particular lesson to begin?”
How had it suddenly gotten so hot in here, and what had happened to her strength? Her will? “Yes.”
His smile evaporated as he reached over her and took hold of her chin. He forced her head back. “I bought you, slave. What does that make me?”
This isn’t happening. I’m having a dream. I must—“My master.”
“That’s right.” He held her head in place. “Your change in status took place before you had time to comprehend it, but sometimes the best lessons are the fast and hard ones. The ones you can’t and don’t want to escape. I repeat, are you ready to embrace what the rest of today is about?”
Only today. Tomorrow she’d go back to being who she’d always been. “Yes.”
“Ah, you truly are a worthy subject.”
The pressure on her chin let up and then ended. She didn’t try to change her head’s position. Neither did she attempt to move her weighted arms. Her legs remained splayed.
Vulnerable. Exposed.
“You’ve long believed you’re many things,” he continued, “but you were wrong. Do you want to know why?”
He was looking down at her. Maybe that’s why her breasts, belly, hips, and legs felt as if he’d run sandpaper over them.
“It’s because you’ve denied what really matters.”
Much as she wanted to ask what he was talking about, she didn’t know how to form the question. He expected her to call him “master” but the word was new to her, not foreign so much as untested.
“I appreciate silence in a slave. That means she’s learning.”
For the second time, his knuckles pressed against the insides of her thighs. They traveled higher this time, closer to her crotch. She obediently widened her stance even more. By putting all her strength into it, she managed to curl her fingers into fists but couldn’t say why. Maybe this was her way of ensuring she wouldn’t touch him unless he gave her permission.
Permission. One of the words a slave lived by.
“Punishment serves its own purpose in teaching a slave her role.” He demonstrated by lightly pinching her where his knuckles had been. She gasped but managed not to move.
“Good slave. You’re indeed trainable.”
Like a dog? No way!
Despite her argument with herself, she started panting as if she were a pet trying to win his approval.
“I don’t want to have to cause you any more pain than necessary in order for the lessons to stick.” He scratched where he’d pinched her, then when she tried to scoot away, he grasped her panties and lifted her buttocks off the table.
“Easy, easy. If you fight me, you’ll wind up regretting it. However, if you do as I command, you’ll be rewarded.”
5
It felt strange being controlled like this. The truth was, he hadn’t really hurt her thighs. If he had, she wouldn’t be getting wetter, would she?
As she waited for his next move, she mentally stepped away from what was happening. She looked more than a little foolish dangling in his grip. Perhaps more importantly, she barely recognized herself. This wasn’t the woman who continually pushed herself on the track. She’d been replaced by a helpless creature being molded by her master.
“Where did you go?” He reinforced his question by lifting her hips even higher off the table and lightly slapping her breasts.
“Go?” She started to reach for his hand, but his glare and another slap stopped her.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He jerked the panties so she bounced a little. “You checked out. Damn it, you know better.”
“I’m sorry, Master. I—didn’t mean to anger you.” What did you just call him, and why are you letting him do this?
“I hope you mean it, slave. You’re new to this.” He slowly let her down but kept his free hand near her breasts. “I’d like to give you pleasure, but in order for it to be most effective, you need to do everything I tell you to, understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
She hoped he’d approve of her response, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. “This lesson isn’t about seduction. I have no interest in a slow build. A slave takes her pleasure when and however she can and makes the most of it. To demonstrate—”
He pulled down on her panties’ crotch and made room for his oversized hand. A rough finger slid over her drenched labia.
“Oh.” Oh shit.
“Yes. As I suspected and intended, you’re already wet.” His finger retraced its earlier journey over her sex. “Women think they’re complex creatures, but they aren’t. This serves as proof.”
This isn’t happening, she tried to tell herself, but she was growing weary of the lie. For reasons she might never comprehend, she was allowing this near stranger to intimately touch her. To treat her like his slave. Her nails dug into her palms, but she couldn’t concentrate on what she was doing enough to stop punishing herself.
He repeatedly teased her pussy. With each electric touch, she sank deeper into this thing he’d created.
“Running no longer matters,” he muttered. “As for your classes, who gives a damn, because I, your master, am putting you in touch with your true reason for being.” A finger touched her entrance. Instead of entering her, however, it remained to tease and promise. Maybe to taunt. “A sex slave has one purpose in life and that is to serve her master’s sexual needs. This”—he wiggled his finger—“pleases him. Not you, him. Right now it entertains me to arouse you so I can see how you react. Because that could end at any moment, I suggest you make the most of it.”
Intercourse had been damn good all right, but the men who’d gone all the way with her had been more interested in themselves than her. As a result, she’d decided she could do as well on her own for the foreseeable future. The problem was, she kept forgetting to buy fresh batteries. Besides, even if she had a supply, she didn’t have the time to get into the mood.
Mood? She was there right now all right, and Master Ken’s finger was making mockery of her vibrator.
“I was willing to push you into a climax,” he said. His finger slid in maybe a half inch. Despite her effort to keep her response from him, she knew her sex juices had given her away. “But I’m reconsidering. You haven’t done anything to deserve a reward.”
A small voice warned her that he was playing games with her, but as long as his hand cupped her pussy while a finger invaded what cried out to be invaded, she couldn’t think what to do. She hadn’t fucked in so damn long. It wouldn’t take much to shove her off the edge, a little added movement on his finger’s part, a little more surrender on hers.
That was what this crazy game of his was about. He wanted his slave to beg.
Closing her eyes against a sudden wave of anger, she dove into sensation. Her panties had been stretched so much they might never recover, and the fabric dug into her. In contrast to the small discomfort, the rest of her body stood on the brink of an explosion.
Surrender. Truly turning her sexuality over to him. Did she have the reckless courage?
Did she have a choice?
Without warning, he ran his commanding finger all the way into her. His palm pressed against her pussy, blanketing and trapping it. Her head whipped from side to side and her hands repeatedly opened and closed.
“Not so sure of yourself, are you, slave? Coming apart.”
Oh God! “Please, what do you want, Master?”
“Your capitulation. Complete and without reservation.” The pressure against her sex increased. “Do you remember what I said about wanting you to describe what I’m doing to you?”
She didn’t have a past, just this presence where Master’s hand claimed the only part of her anatomy that mattered.
“No more holding back.” He sounded angry. “What’s happening to you right now?”
Despite her fear of what she might discover about herself, she focused on her sex and the all-encompassing presence both against and inside her. “You—you’ve turned me on.”
“Come on. You can do better than that. You pride yourself on knowing your body, slave. What message is it giving you right now?”
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep her head still. She repeatedly reached for him only to withdraw. “I, ah, don’t know what you want me to say.”
“It’s getting harder for you to concentrate, which is exactly what I intended. All right, let’s see if I can keep things simple. When you walked in here, your libido was next to the last thing on your mind, right?”
She nodded.
“And now getting fucked is darn near the only thing you’re thinking about.”
“Yes. Master.”
He curved the finger inside her so his pad pressed against her channel. The contact seemed even more intimate than what he’d done so far. “Was foreplay involved in getting you to this point?”
I can’t think. Please, you have to know that. “No. I mean, I don’t think so.”
“Why do you suspect I took that route?”
Because his question carried a harsh note, she warned herself to pay attention, but his finger promised so much. “I don’t know.”
“Wrong!”
One moment she stood on the brink of a climax. The next he’d abandoned her pussy. Before she could make sense of what he’d done, he slapped her crotch. Yelping, she struggled to bring her legs together.
“No, slave! Your body belongs to me. Me, not you. If I decide you need to be punished, it will happen.”
He again slapped her too-sensitive flesh. Alarmed, she surged into a sitting position and reached for him. He effortlessly pushed her down. That done, he yanked her arms over her head and crossed one wrist over the other. He gripped them in a single paw. She looked back at him as best she could and watched, barely comprehending, while he reached down for something she couldn’t see. He held up a slender length of leather.
“A slave often needs to be restrained. It now appears I was remiss in not taking that precaution earlier.”
Both because she knew it wouldn’t do any good and because she needed to understand what he had in mind, she didn’t resist as he wove the leather around her wrists. When he was done, he brought her arms forward so she could see what he’d done. Not only had he forced her wrists into a crude X, but the knotted leather ensured they’d remain that way.
“I was hoping you’d put up a fight. In fact, I’d be surprised and disappointed if you didn’t.” He gifted her with another of his unsettling smiles. Then he pulled her arms up and back. She could tell he was fastening the loose leather end to something at the head of the table.
When he was done, he let go of her and patted the cheek closest to him.
“Go on, slave. Test your bounds.”
Her heart both raced and skipped beats as she tugged against whatever he’d tethered her to. The leather didn’t cut into her wrists but neither could she bring her arms back down. Not only that, her upper arms restricted her vision.
“You look lovely like that, slave. Buying you cost me more than I intended to spend, but I’m glad I did.” He placed his hand over her throat. Her heart continued its accelerated pace, yet she wasn’t afraid.
Should she be?
“You’re a wild horse, a just-caught mustang. Perhaps you’ll prove to be the magnificent racehorse I want to possess, but determining that will take time. Now that I have you properly restrained, I can return to today’s lesson.” He stroked her throat. “Feel your body, slave. Tell me everything you can about it.”
His voice held a disembodied note that reminded her of what taking an online course had been like. The professor was real and yet he wasn’t three-dimensional. Except for the hand on her throat, that was what Ken Paro, her Master, had become.
“I, ah, you’ve tied me down. You can do anything you want to me.”
“Bad slave! What have you forgotten?”
When he’d slapped her breasts before, it hadn’t hurt. This time he put enough force behind the blow that she was grateful for her blouse and bra—not that he couldn’t get rid of them whenever he wanted to.
“Master.” She belatedly remembered what to call him. “I’m sorry.”
“As you should be.” He continued to hold on to her throat as he unbuttoned her top blouse button. “So you’ve determined that we’re playing in my ballpark. You are under my command.”
Instead of continuing to undress her as she believed he’d do, he slipped several fingers under her blouse and rested them against her upper left breast.
She waited. Wanted.
“One thing I want to make perfectly clear,” he said, “is that I will not hurt you.”
It wouldn’t take much effort on his part to cut off her ability to breathe, but even as she acknowledged the reality behind the weight against her throat, she nodded as best she could. “I know, Master.”
“And why are you saying that?”
Because I told a couple of people where I was going today. If something happens to me, you’ll be their first suspect. “That isn’t your intention, Master.”
“What is, then?”
Was he ever going to do something with the fingers teasing her breast? Darn him, making her wait for something she wasn’t sure she’d ever fully grasp wasn’t fair!
“Lessons,” she said. “You want to teach me some things about myself.”
“Yes. What have you learned so far? Let’s go back to the subject of your body. What is it experiencing?”
Frustration. “My arms are useless. I, ah, I can’t touch myself.”
“Go on.”
“I feel—I’ve never experienced something like this, so I’m not sure I have the words, Master. My body no longer belongs to me. I can’t make it do what I want it to.”
“However, I can. I also know the essentials of what you need. Do you want my finger back inside you?”
Just the thought of that delicious sensation had her tightening her inner muscles. At the same time, years of self-determination made her rebel. She didn’t have to lie here like some dumb animal while he played out whatever crazy game he had in mind. Her hands were tethered, but the rest of her was free—not that thrashing about would do any good.
“I asked you a question, slave. You are aware that I can further restrain you. If it entertains me to do so, I’ll securely rope you to this table with your legs stretched wide. Maybe I’ll walk away leaving you wishing to hell you’d taken me up on my offer. Maybe . . .”
He lifted his hand from her throat and brushed her hair from her cheek. The intimate gesture knocked her almost as much off balance as his sudden command of her pussy had. Did she want this gentle side to him? Maybe she preferred more of the treatment that had robbed her of the use of her hands?
A true and total slave. Tied down for her Master’s pleasure. Robbed of speech. Perhaps blindfolded. No longer an elite runner but a helpless sexual object. Living for those moments when Master’s attention was on her alone.
“What was I saying?” he went on. Alarmed by her thoughts, she struggled to concentrate. “Oh yes, my options when it comes to training my newest slave. As I believe I’ve adequately pointed out, I don’t have the patience or inclination for a slow buildup. Also, our time today is limited and we both need to make the most of it.”
When the hour was over, he’d unlock the door and send her on her way? Maybe they’d never see each other again and in time her memory of what had taken place between them would fade. Wishing she understood how she felt about that, she lifted her head.
“Down, slave.” He worked a finger under her bra. “I haven’t given you permission to indulge your curiosity.”
She might not know anything else, but she had no doubt she wanted to please him so she sank back onto the table. Every time she thought she understood him, he did or said something new that kept her off balance. Undoubtedly that was deliberate on his part, a vital element in his slave-training regime.
Caged and waiting for her master. Heart pounding and palms sweating, not in fear but anticipation. Pussy sticky with longing and nipples hard. Gripping the bars. Listening intently for the sound of Master’s footsteps.
6
“Back to the subject under discussion.” Ken chuckled. “It really isn’t a discussion, is it, because I’m the one directing the conversation.” Another finger joined the one already under her bra and he pressed against her breast, flattening it a little. A river of heat flowed over her. She whined and tossed her head.
“What’s that, slave? Something you want to tell me?”
“I—I don’t know, Master.”
His expression was somewhere between compassion and impatience. “You really are raw material. I need to remember that. So, are you ready for me to continue?”
Continue. Sinking deeper into submission and surrender. Trusting him to—“Yes, Master.”
