Though he rarely ate breakfast himself, he took several bites of egg and ate half a piece of toast before turning to Carly, who was watching his every move like a dog waiting to be tossed a scrap. Adding some cream, he took a sip of his coffee, appraising his slave girl over the rim. Her eyes, he realized, were the color of robin’s eggs, a rich, pure blue. She glanced submissively down in the face of his gaze.
“You have a choice,” he told her. “You can eat from the plate on the floor, mouth only, no utensils. Or I can feed you.”
Carly pursed her lips, not quite managing to hide the confused, annoyed expression that flitted over her features. Adam lifted another bite of egg to his mouth, following it with another long sip of coffee.
“Feed me, please, Sir,” she finally blurted, actually licking her lips.
Nodding, Adam held out a piece of toast, allowing her take a bite. He scooped up some egg on the fork and let her take it. He continued to feed her until the plate was empty. “Do you like coffee or would you prefer orange juice?”
“Coffee, please,” she said quickly. Adam finished what was in his cup and stood, heading toward the pot.
Turning back, he asked, “How do you take it?”
“Cream and three spoons of sugar, please, Sir.”
He poured the coffee and added the cream, not quite able to hide his smile as he stirred in the ridiculous amount of sugar. The coffee was steaming hot, and while he planned to hurt her today, accidentally burning her with scalding coffee was not the way he intended to do it. Handing her the cup, he said, “Here. You can hold it. When you’re done, wash the dishes and wipe down the counters.”
He took up the newspaper, pretending to ignore her as she sipped and then gulped the sweet coffee. When she was done she stood, smoothing her thighs as if she were smoothing the fabric of the skirt that wasn’t there. She cleared the dishes and went to the sink. He watched her openly as she cleaned up, again admiring the small dimples over her ass cheeks and the welt that, though fading, was still visible.
When Carly was done, she turned toward Adam, an expectant look on her face. Adam stood. “This morning I was going to begin with a flogging session just to warm you up, but you have an annoying habit that needs breaking. Follow me.”
Biting her lower lip, Carly followed him out of the kitchen and up the two flights of stairs to his dungeon. He left her standing in the middle of the room while he went to the cabinet and opened the drawer containing his gag collection. Finding what he was looking for, he removed it from its sterilized container and brought it to his naked slave girl, holding it out for her inspection.
“Do you know what this is?”
Carly stared at it with wide eyes. “No, Sir,” she breathed.
“It’s called a Whitehead gag. It was originally designed for dentists, the ultimate sadists, for when they want to keep your mouth wide open.” He touched her lips. “Open up. I’ll show you.”
Carly took a step back and Adam glared at her. “I said open your mouth.” He spoke sternly, daring her with his eyes to defy him. With obvious reluctance, Carly did as she was told. Adam placed the metal device in her mouth, positioning it behind her front teeth. Slowly he cranked the ratchet on the side of the gag, forcing her mouth wide open before locking it into place.
He massaged his cock through his shorts, toying with the idea of fucking her face, but first things first, he told himself. “Do you know why you’re wearing this particular gag, Carly?”
She shook her head, making an ineffectual sound.
“It’s because I’m tired of watching you nibble on your lower lip like it was a teething toy. You’ve been doing it since the second I bought you, despite my telling you repeatedly to stop it. It’s a bad habit, and not at all suitable behavior for a sub. I won’t have it, do you understand?”
The girl nodded, unable to reply, a miserable expression on her face. Adam continued, “You will wear this while you write your rules. It may be a little awkward but it’s perfectly safe.”
He led her to the cock box and had her kneel there. He brought over a clipboard with a pad of paper on it and set it, along with a pen, in front of her. Reaching into his shorts pocket, he took out the list of rules he’d typed up on his laptop while she was in the shower and set it beside the clipboard.
“You will write the rules, word for word, until you know them by heart. I’ll quiz you afterwards, so make damn sure you memorize them.” Carly lifted her hand to her open mouth, about to wipe a string of drool that slipped from the corner.
Adam stopped her, his hand on her wrist. “Un unh,” he informed her. “The drool will help you remember, next time you think about biting your lip. Right now you’re a drooling, naked object, and nothing more. You are being punished.” He let go of her wrist, watching as the drool slid down her chin and onto her breasts. “Now get on with it.”
Tears in her pretty eyes, Carly looked at the printed list of rules, took up the pen, and began to write.
Chapter 5
Carly’s chin and chest were covered with her own drool and her jaw ached. If he’d just take this horrible contraption off her, she’d never bite her lip again, she swore to herself. She’d written the rules five times and was reasonably sure they were imprinted on her brain. Setting the pen down on the ink-covered page, she sat back on her haunches, looking toward Adam with silent yearning.
He was in the chair across from her, a newspaper in his hands. He seemed engrossed in whatever he was reading. Carly tried to clear her throat, but only succeeded in making a strangled sort of gargling noise. It was enough, however, to make him look up.
“Yes?” he said, folding the paper. “Are you done?”
Carly nodded.
“What’s that?” Adam said, lifting his eyebrows. “Speak up, I didn’t hear you.”
“Eh ir,” was the best approximation Carly could manage. Get this fucking thing off me! she wanted to scream.
“So, if I remove the dental gag, you will recite the rules for me, in their entirety?”
“Eh, ir,” she gargled.
Placing the folded paper on the floor beside his chair, Adam stood and moved around the chest toward her. She leaned up, bending her head so he could unbuckle the gag, but instead she realized he was unzipping his shorts. Pulling out his cock, he took her head in both hands and guided her wide-open mouth over his shaft.
Carly gagged as the rapidly hardening cock poked far back against her throat. He thrust hard, pulling and pushing her head to create friction, while Carly struggled to breathe and swallow. As quickly as he started, however, he stopped, pulling away. He let his shorts fall to the ground and kicked them aside.
Bending down, he released the gag from its open position, allowing Carly to close her aching jaws. Unbuckling the strap, he pulled the gag from her mouth. Reaching for his shorts, he extracted something from the pocket and tossed her a bit of cloth that she realized was a handkerchief. Gratefully Carly wiped away the drool, while working her aching jaw.
“You’ve memorized the rules?” Adam asked as he watched her wiping herself.
“Yes, Sir,” Carly replied, unable to look away from the erect cock bobbing near her face.
“I thought about just having you recite them, but decided that would be too easy. A properly trained slave should be able to handle external stimuli while performing whatever task is assigned to her. I’ve decided this stimulus will be sexual in nature.”
Carly didn’t reply, as there had been no direct question, but her mind and body were instantly buzzing with the possibilities. What would it be like to feel that hard, thick cock filling her? Would she be able to focus enough to say her lines?
Adam apparently had something else in mind however, as he led her to a freestanding metal frame on the far side of the room that she realized she’d taken for a coat rack the night before. This morning nylon cuffs with Velcro closures were hanging from the top bar. Beneath it sat a low, wide stool covered in faded silk upholstery. Carly stood with her
arms wrapped around her torso while she watched Adam, hardly daring to speculate what came next.
Reaching for the top bar, he released some kind of spring, which allowed him to lower the bar between the vertical rods that held it in place. She imagined he would have her sit on the stool, her wrists cuffed overhead, but instead Adam pointed toward the stool. “Lie face up on the stool so your lower back is straddling it. I’m going to lift your legs and strap your ankles to the bar.”
Carly tried to obey, feeling awkward and uncertain as she lay back on the stool. Grasping her ankles and pulling her legs upward, Adam secured them into the cuffs and then hoisted the bar up again. The position wasn’t precisely uncomfortable, as her neck and shoulders rested securely on the stool, but the position left her feeling very vulnerable.
Leaving her alone, he returned a moment later with a hank of rope, which he wound around her wrists, forcing her hands down to her chest, where they rested as if in prayer between her breasts. As it always did, the feel of rope against her skin sent shivers of warm, wet desire moving through Carly’s loins.
Leaving her yet again, Adam came back with a black pair of clover clamps, which he held so she could see. Pinching her nipple between thumb and forefinger, he opened one of the clips and let the rubber-tipped metal pincher close over the distended nipple.
Gripping the other nipple, Adam closed the second pincher over the hard nubbin. Carly winced and let out a breath as she struggled to adjust to the pulse of pain in her breasts. Her nipples throbbed in unison in the tight grip of the clover clamps. A tug on the chain between them made her moan in pain as it caused the clips to tighten even more against her sensitive nipples.
Letting the chain drop, Adam pushed at the ankle cuffs that secured her to the bar overhead, forcing her legs wider to fully expose her cunt. In spite of her predicament and her pain, or partially because of them, she felt her labia swelling in anticipation of his touch. She flashed back to the night before, to the sensual, dominant way he’d taken her over in the car, wresting a powerful orgasm from her that had left her stunned.
The sudden, sharp smack to her spread labia pulled a scream of startled surprise from Carly’s lips. This was followed by a moan as Adam licked his finger and pushed it inside her, curling it in a way that sent a shudder of need through Carly’s frame as he grazed her clit with his palm.
The rope, the clamps, the stroke of his fingers all combined into a powerful erotic sensation that made Carly begin to pant. From her position, she could see no higher than Adam’s crotch, where his erection bobbed so close to her face that if she strained she could have licked the shaft. Not that she dared.
“Go on, slave. Recite the rules.”
The rules, the rules. What rules? Jesus god, that feels so good. He smells so good. My nipples hurt.
Another smack against Carly’s spread cunt, harder than the first, ripped through her nerve endings, making her gasp in pain.
The rules! Say them!
“I will not sit on any furniture,” she began haltingly, and then remembered the rest, “without express permission or direction, oh!” He was doing that amazing thing again with his hand that he’d done in the car.
Concentrate, concentrate.
Taking a deep breath, she willed her brain to reconnect, her vocal chords to function, her mouth to form the words.
“I will ask…” She groaned and gasped as he stroked her toward orgasm. A sharp slap elicited another cry.
“Focus,” Adam admonished from above.
“I will ask,” Carly continued breathlessly, “for permission to eat, oh, oooo…” His fingers were doing an erotic dance over her labia and sliding into her wetness. The pain in her nipples had eased to a dull throb. “Drink, sleep, use the toilet, shower, speak and, oh! Oh, oh, oh!”
“And what, Carly? And what? Tell me.”
The blood was rushing in her ears and pounding in her temples. And what? What was next? Oh god, oh fuck, oh god… His palm ground against her clit, his fingers moving inside her like a cock. He was standing close, so close his erection brushed against her body. She could smell his musk and her own desire, the scents mingling like an aphrodisiac in the air.
A rush of pleasure so fierce it could have been pain hurtled through her body, making her jerk and writhe in her bonds. “Oh, oh, god, oh, please, I—”
“Tell me,” he urged, his voice throaty and low. “Tell me.”
Carly’s head lifted, her muscles contorting in her effort to close her legs against the onslaught of Adam’s relentless fingers. She tried to override the intense sensations that had caused her brain to short-circuit. It was too much, too much. If she could just remember the rest of the rule maybe he would stop, and she could catch her breath, somehow regain some semblance of composure, say the words he demanded from her.
Her body still in the throes of ecstasy, she finally managed to get her brain to spew out the words, hoping she’d remember the ending before she fainted from his touch: I will ask permission to eat, drink, sleep, use the toilet, shower, speak and… “To orgasm!” she shouted, jerking in her restraints.
Finally his hand fell away. She hung upside down, trembling, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat, her cunt throbbing. Adam knelt down in front of her, his mouth lifted in a sardonic grin, his eyebrows lifted.
Oh, shit.
“What just happened, Carly?”
He was going to make her say it, adding insult to her injury.
Carly closed her eyes, but forced herself to speak. “I came without permission, Sir.”
“That’s right, Carly. You did. What happens to slave girls who break the rules?”
“They get punished, Sir.”
He nodded. “They do.”
Reaching for the nipple clamps, he released them in tandem.
Carly screamed.
~*~
As Adam let the girl down from the bar, his impulse was to take her into his arms and suckle away the pain at her nipples. He was not an impulsive man, he reminded himself, and she was not his lover.
He could see the tears in her eyes and the sheen of sweat on her flushed skin, but beyond those uncontrollable physical reactions, who knew what was real? He wanted to believe the explosive orgasm he’d seemed to pull from her was authentic, but well knew women’s ability to fake it, even supposed slave girls.
She swayed as he helped her to stand, dizzy from the blood rushing away from her head. Adam reached to steady her, and then pressed at her shoulder. “Kneel and thank me,” he ordered the purchased slave, pointing toward his bare feet. Dutifully the girl dropped to her knees. Her lips were soft as they fluttered over his skin.
“We clearly have a lot of work to do in terms of teaching you to focus,” he said to the top of her head as the girl continued to kiss his feet. “You barely got through the second rule.” Adam smiled in spite of himself as he said this. If she had been faking, she deserved an Oscar. “You’ll recite the rules for me later. Right now I have a few things to attend to. This will be an excellent time for you to do your morning chores.”
He led her downstairs to the master bedroom and retrieved the stiletto heels he had bought for whatever slave girl he brought home. Glancing now at Carly's feet, he thought the shoes might be a little big, but they would do.
“You will wear these for all your chores,” he informed her. Reaching into the drawer he’d set aside for the other items he’d purchased in anticipation of a slave girl’s arrival, Adam pulled out the hobbling cuffs and the outfit she would wear while cleaning.
“Put this on.” He handed her the bustier and white lacey French maid’s apron, smiling as he watched her struggle into the tight-fitting outfit. The bustier forced her breast together, the top halves spilling lusciously over the bone-stayed satin. It fit tight, tighter than he knew was comfortable, but as long as she could breathe, she should be fine. The apron accentuated her slender waist, while hiding little of her smooth, bare body beneath it. She stepped into the high heels, wobbling sli
ghtly as he knelt to attach the ankle cuffs with the hobbling chain between them.
“Walk toward the bathroom and back to me,” he instructed Carly. She looked incredibly sexy in the outfit as she took careful, mincing steps toward the bathroom, her gait limited by the chain between her ankles, as was the intention. She had tied the apron’s sash in a floppy bow behind her, the loops of which hung over her shapely ass as she walked.
When she returned to him, Adam instructed Carly on how he required the bed made, watching her execute a hospital corner and smooth the sheets just so before showing her how he liked his pillows. “You’ll find fresh sheets in the linen closet,” he informed her as he pulled away her handiwork, tossing the bedding onto the floor. “I like the sheets changed every two days. Today is a changing day.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He took her to the bathroom, showing her the hamper for the soiled sheets, the linen closet and where the cleaning supplies were kept. “You will clean out the shower and the Jacuzzi if it’s been used. You will wash down the sinks and counters, make sure the towels are fresh and properly folded, clean the mirrors, scour the toilet, wipe down the baseboards and mop the floor. When you think everything is done to my satisfaction, you will press this button here.” He showed her the intercom that was set into the wall above the light switch.
“You will wait in the bedroom at attention, arms behind your back, legs spread as far as the chains will allow, until I come to you. You will accompany me during my inspection, and if your work passes muster, all to the good. If not, well…” He shrugged. “Take all the time you need,” he added. “It had better be done right.”
Adam savored the flash of fear that moved through her pretty blue eyes, his cock swelling at the thought of the delicious punishments he had already devised when she failed to satisfy him, as she invariably would.
“Are we quite clear on this?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Adam left her looking through the linen closet for the bedding she would need and headed down to his study. Once seated behind his desk, he logged on to his computer and answered several emails. He started to open the feasibility study file one of his vice presidents had prepared, but instead found himself reaching for the Erotica Auctions contract, spreading it flat on his desk and turning to the second page to examine Carly’s signature.
The Auction Page 5