“Oh,” Hailey breathed, hers eyes shining. “That’s perfect.”
Ronan beamed with pride. “I was a carpenter before I got into acting,” he said. “I still love to work with my hands. This was George’s idea, actually. Back when we were first looking at your portfolio and we saw you were heavily into yoga, he thought it might be a nice idea if you had your own dedicated space.”
Hailey walked to the simple cabana-like structure Ronan had fashioned, using bamboo for the frame. It was facing the water, the roof and three walls made from white canvas that blocked the sun but still let in the light. A thick yoga mat was set on the ground inside the structure. As an afterthought, Ronan had hung a crystal prism from the ceiling that cast rainbow patterns over the canvas walls.
Ronan moved to stand beside her. “You can do your yoga in the mornings before I come down. And during your free time.”
“Thank you, Master Ronan.” Hailey dropped to her knees and kissed the tops of Ronan’s feet with soft lips.
He clenched his hands into fists as he forced himself to resist the impulse to pull her into his arms and then lower her to the ground. His cock perked, a drop of pre-come wetting his shorts as his imagination had him already on top of her, his shaft buried to the hilt inside her, her arms pinned over her head, his mouth covering hers.
When he’d been studying her portfolio and those of the other potential slave girls George had provided for him, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t succumb to the feminine charms of a girl who, once the six month contract was up, would be gone. He needed to be careful going forward. He didn’t want to give slave Hailey the wrong impression.
~*~
The yoga meditation left Hailey peaceful and ready to face whatever challenges the day held. Or so she thought until Master Ronan held up the anal plug.
“We’re going to work on your ass issues,” he announced as she knelt before him in the dungeon. “As one of the steps in working toward desensitization, you’ll be wearing a butt plug every day during your chores. We’ll start with this relatively small one, and work our way up.”
Hailey had been required to wear an anal plug for an entire week at The Compound, removed only for her to use the bathroom. She had learned to accommodate the full feeling, but was still shy about undue attention paid to her bottom. She submitted to inspection and scrutiny, of course, but still remained profoundly uncomfortable with the whole thing. She wished Master Ronan hadn’t chosen this particular issue to work on, but then, it wasn’t up to her.
He approached her, a tube of lubricant and the plug in hand. “Head down, ass up,” he ordered. “Maintain your position while I insert it.”
Hailey lowered her head until her forehead rested on the carpet. She closed her eyes, mustering what remained of the lingering yoga peace. She flinched slightly when she felt the cold, gooey blob of lubricant squirted between her cheeks. A moment later she felt his finger rim the hole and then gently press its way inside.
In spite of her trepidation, she had to admit his finger felt good, and her clit perked up, eager for the same attention. But of course, Master Ronan had other plans. His finger was removed, and she felt the hard press of rubber against her sphincter. The plug slid in fairly easily, widening the opening as it moved deeper.
“Stay relaxed,” he said from behind her. “This is the last bit.” Then came the sudden, sharp pain as the flared end of the plug slipped inside her. It subsided quickly as her anal muscles adjusted to the invading girth.
He tapped her shoulder and she rose back onto her haunches. “Stand up,” he commanded. He brought the full-length mirror closer and instructed her to look back at herself. She did, squinting a little with dismay at the sight of the black circle of rubber protruding between her ass cheeks. Then she noticed the bruises and lingering welts, and she drew in her breath.
Badges of courage, one of her trainers had called the marks, and she had to agree. She reached back and touched the cut just below her ass, recalling the wicked stroke of Master Ronan’s signal whip. To think, he’d known all along she’d masturbated without permission. How much worse the punishment might have been if she hadn’t confessed of her own accord!
“Let’s go down now to the cleaning closet.” Master Ronan’s words snapped her back to the moment. She followed him out of the dungeon and down to the first floor. He pulled open a door next to the powder room, revealing shelves filled with cleaning supplies, brooms and mops neatly lining one wall. A top-of- the-line vacuum stood next to them.
Master Ronan took a shoebox from the bottom shelf and opened it. He removed a pair of shiny red high heels and a short chain with leather cuffs attached on either side. “You will wear these shoes and ankle cuffs while working. They, along with the plug, will remind you of your status as my personal slave. It pleases me to see you suffer. You do understand that, don’t you, slave Hailey?”
His cock had hardened visibly beneath his shorts, and his sea glass green eyes glittered with lust. Hailey’s nipples leaped to answering attention and she could barely catch her breath enough to reply, “It pleases me to suffer for you, Sir.”
“Good. I would expect no less.” He set the shoes on the floor and pointed to them. Hailey slipped one foot and then the other into the heels. Until she’d gone to The Compound, Hailey had never worn anything higher than a half-inch heel, but the grace and decorum work she’d received during her training served her well now, and she stood tall without a wobble.
Ronan crouched in front of her and secured the cuffs around each ankle. There was give enough for her to walk, but just barely. Cleaning was going to be awkward, but she supposed that was the point. A slave learned to be graceful no matter the challenge placed before her.
Ronan took a small black apron trimmed with white lace from a hook on the inside of the door and told her to put it on, which Hailey did. He went over the duties of scrubbing the bathrooms, making his bed, vacuuming and sweeping, and cleaning the kitchen. “Some days I might give you a special task, but for today just focus on the basics. I may come in and distract you from time to time. You are to ignore me as best you can. That is, don’t let it interfere with your work. No matter what I do to you, you remain focused on your task. Are we quite clear on this, slave Hailey?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. I leave you to it, then. I have a few things to attend to in my study. I’ll come find you when I’m ready.”
He strode away. Hailey stood uncertainly for a moment, and then faced the closet. She would do the master bathroom first, and work from upstairs to down. She grabbed a pail, some cleaning supplies, a pair of rubber gloves, a mop and a broom. It was slow going up the stairs in those heels with all her gear in tow and her feet hobbled by the chain. Her cunt throbbed gently and she enjoyed a brief fantasy of rubbing herself to another orgasm once she got upstairs, just to take the edge off, but she knew she would not. One stolen orgasm had been enough. Master Ronan would reward her when he was ready—when she had earned it.
She had finished the master bathroom and was in the process of making Ronan’s bed when she heard him coming up the stairs. Recalling his instruction, she didn’t stop her work or turn around when she heard him enter the room.
She jumped a little when she felt his hand on her ass, but after a moment she continued to smooth the bedding into place. A sudden, sharp smack to her right ass cheek pulled a surprised cry from her lips. He had hit her quite hard, and she could feel the lingering heat of his handprint against her skin. She reached for one of the pillows and plumped it into position.
His hand crashed down on the other side, the force of the blow flattening her against the mattress. Suddenly he was on her, straddling her back with his legs. She was trapped beneath him—there was no way to continue her work. She lay there, unsure what to do. His hand found her ass again, this time smacking the end of the butt plug, pushing it deeper into her.
Hailey groaned at the pressure as pain radiated over her ass cheeks from his hard palm. He s
truck her again and again, covering every inch of her ass with strong, stinging blows. She began to pant. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. In spite of the pain and her position, or no—because of it—her cunt was sopping wet and aching to be filled.
All at once, his weight was lifted from her body. She heard him move behind her and she waited, silently willing him to flip her over and cover her body with his. She longed to be pinned down with his masculine weight as he plunged his hard cock inside her.
That didn’t happen.
She lay still for several long moments, not sure what to do. Finally she dared to lift her head and twist it back to see what he was doing.
He was gone.
She bit back the deep sigh that welled inside her. She willed herself to get off the bed and back to work. Her ass was flaming, her cunt on a different kind of fire. It took supreme effort to focus on the task at hand. She re-straightened the bed and gathered the cleaning supplies. Moving slowly and carefully, she made her way back down the stairs to the supply closet. She listened for Master Ronan and surreptitiously glanced around, but he was nowhere in sight.
Biting back another sigh, she took the lightweight vacuum cleaner from the closet and hauled it back upstairs. She vacuumed the bedroom carpet. The hallway was hardwood, and she didn’t see a speck of dirt on it. She vacuumed the stairs, balancing awkwardly in her hobble chain as she moved from one stair to the next until finally reaching the bottom floor.
Leaving the vacuum in the living room, she retrieved dusting supplies from the closet and wiped down the shelves and furniture. Finally she vacuumed the beautifully patterned Oriental rug.
By the time she entered the kitchen, she was thirsty from her work. She wondered if she had permission to get some more of that delicious limeade she’d had the day before. She decided not to chance it—she would request permission later to take a drink during chores. Meanwhile she contented herself with a handful of tap water from the faucet.
She wiped down the countertop where they’d enjoyed the delicious sweet rolls and strong, hot coffee. She cleaned out the coffee pot and swept the floor, deciding she would mop last, after she washed and dried their few dishes.
She moved to the sink and turned on the water. As she was waiting for it to heat, she heard Master Ronan entering the kitchen, his bare feet swishing over the stone floor. She resisted her impulse to turn to him, instead picking up a coffee mug and squirting a dollop of dish soap into it.
She felt his hands on her shoulders, and the tickle of his breath beside her ear. “You’re my property. I own you.”
Hailey’s knees threatened to buckle, his words thrilling her to her submissive core. “Yes, Sir,” she breathed in agreement.
“I can do what I want to my property.”
“Yes, Sir.” A delicious tingle of fear shot through her longing.
She felt the sharp press of his teeth on the muscle where her shoulder met her neck. He growled as he lightly bit her. Lifting his head, he murmured, “Focus. Keep doing the dishes.”
She realized the cup was hanging sideways in her hand, the water spilling over its side. She righted the cup and pushed a sponge into it. She blew out a breath as she tried to steady herself.
She heard him crouch down behind her. His hands were at her ankles, and he pulled open the hobble cuffs one at a time and then pushed the cuffs and chain away. Standing again behind her, he gripped her hips, pulling her lower half away from the sink so she was forced to bend at the waist to keep her position.
He tapped the inside of her ankle with a toe. “Stay like you are, but spread your legs shoulder-width apart. Keep them straight and stick out your ass,” he commanded. His fingers were digging into the flesh just above her hips. He let go of one side and a moment later she felt the head of his cock between her legs.
She grunted as he rammed into her. Luckily she was slick with pent-up desire. The pressure in her ass increased as his cock competed inside her for space with the anal plug, the two phalluses separated only by a thin membrane. Grabbing both hips again, he thrust hard against her, pulled back and then thrust again.
“I”—thrust—”own”—thrust—”you,” he grunted, each word punctuated with a brutal thrust that sent spirals of pure pleasure hurtling through Hailey’s body.
She tried briefly to focus on the mug in her hand, but it was no use. She could barely see, much less concentrate on her duties. Something in the angle of his cock and the friction created by the dual phalluses inside her was creating sensations so powerful she was barely able to remain standing. She gripped the edge of the sink with her free hand and pressed her lips together to keep from screaming her pleasure.
Then she felt his fingers at her clit, and his touch sent a jolt of lightening through her frame. The cup fell from her fingers and clattered in the sink. His fingers moved over her swollen clit as he fucked her with ferocious perfection. It was too much. Though she’d been trained in orgasm control at The Compound, nothing had prepared her for an onslaught of this nature, and she found herself powerless in its grip.
“Please, Sir, oh please! May I come? I need to come. Oh god…”
“No. You may not.” Again he punctuated his words with perfectly placed thrusts.
Tears of frustration sprang to Hailey’s eyes, but she willed her body to obey her Master’s cruel decree. She pressed her lips together to keep from begging again, but failed to stop the low moan of lust that rose deep in her throat.
Oh god, stop. Don’t stop. Oh fuck, stop or I’ll come. No! Master Ronan said no and that’s the end of it. Don’t come, don’t come. You don’t have permission. Wash the mug. Focus. Do your duty. Oh, oh, oh, oh…
He did something astonishing, a kind of swivel with his hips the left her completely without defense or the will to resist. It was no use. Her mouth opened and she heard herself wailing from a distance as a powerful orgasm ripped its way through her, obliterating conscious thought.
When she came to herself enough to focus, Master Ronan had pulled away from her. She was panting, her heart still galloping. She looked down to see that the handle of the mug had broken off when she’d dropped it. She lifted herself from her bent position and turned slowly and hesitantly to face her Master, the shame hot in her face.
He was naked, his cock still erect, his hands on his hips. “You came when I expressly forbid it.” It wasn’t a question.
There was less than no point in trying to deny what was so obvious. “Yes, Sir. I’m so sorry, Sir.”
“I can see we have a lot of work to do. I only hope six months will be enough time.” He flashed an evil grin. “What happens to girls who come without permission?”
Hailey’s gut clenched. She could have whined that he’d set her an impossible task—that what he’d done was so amazing there was no way she could have resisted. She could try to appeal to his masculine ego, but she would not cheapen herself, or him, with such a ploy. She had begged for permission, and she had been refused. And that was that.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze, ready to take what she knew was coming to her. “They get punished, Sir.”
Chapter 6
She was standing on her toes, her cunt poised just above the two-by-four between her legs. Her arms were bound behind her back with cotton bondage rope, securely tied at the wrists and elbows so she was forced to arch her back to keep her balance over the modified sawhorse.
Ronan kept his eyes on Hailey as his cell phone skittered and vibrated on the glass table. He didn’t want to answer the damn phone, but it was the sixth time in the past hour his extremely annoying and persistent agent had called without leaving a message. He grabbed it and touched the screen.
“What?” he demanded brusquely.
“Ronan, babe. About time you picked up.”
Ronan hated it when Armand called him babe, but he’d grown tired of pointing this out. “Did you forget? I’m on hiatus for the next six months. I told you not to bother me unless—”
“Unless i
t was an emergency. Yeah, I know, I know. I’m sorry to bug you, but you need to hear this. Too big to leave as a phone message or text.” He paused, clearly waiting for a prompt. Ronan offered none.
“We got the gig, babe!” Armand shouted, the triumph ringing in his voice.
“The Midnight Assassin trilogy! Filming is scheduled for next spring. They want you, man. No audition, no haggles, no nothin’. It’s a done deal. All we need is your John Hancock and the wheels will turn. The money is fucking ridiculous, man. We’re talking an astronomical payoff—front end and back end, share of the profits, executive producer rights, the whole shebang.”
The thought of being locked into yet another series of mind-numbing action hero movies where the dialog consisted of grunted one-liners and the special effects superseded any attempt at plot did not gladden Ronan’s heart—the money notwithstanding. This was definitely not what he had imagined for himself when he’d dreamed of making it as an actor.
“Dude! You there? Hello? Hello?”
Ronan forced himself to concentrate. The sooner he dealt with Armand, the sooner he could get back to what really mattered. “I’m here. Send me the stuff via email, okay? I’ll have a look at it.”
“That’s it? You’ll have a look? What the fuck, Ronan? This is the—”
“I said I’ll have a look,” Ronan interrupted, his jaws clenched. “If they want me that bad, they can wait a couple of damn days, right? You wouldn’t want to seem too eager.”
Armand laughed, though it sounded forced. “Right you are, Mr. Wolfe. Always thinkin’. Okay, okay. I’ll send it. But do me a fucking favor, babe. Read the damn thing, okay?” He sighed histrionically into the phone. “Sheesh, sometimes I think your career matters more to me than to you.”
A small shock went through Ronan’s core, and he realized that was probably true. When, exactly, had he lost sight of his dreams? “Send the stuff. I’ll read it and get back to you within a day or two.”
Beyond the Compound: The Compound Trilogy - Book 2 Page 7