by Vonna Harper
“Anticipation.” Hoping no one saw his expression, he closed his hand around her other breast. “Sometimes anticipation is wonderful. Other times it’s the pits. We both know which this is.” There. He’d said what was expected of him.
“Don’t talk,” she whispered. “Don’t— I don’t want to listen to you.”
Not at all the response he’d expected. Maybe he should ask Robert for tips on how to best deal with her—and himself. No, that wasn’t his way.
As he’d done with the first one, he drew out the moment of nipple capture. He split his attention between the clamp’s alignment and her expression, because he didn’t want to damage her. She was no longer looking at him, which made his task easier. It wasn’t until he released the clamp that he realized she’d been staring at the camera—maybe daring whoever was watching to acknowledge what she was being forced to endure.
Her breath hissed.
“I’m all that matters.” He tugged on the chain. “Only you and I exist.”
Her gaze swung to him. She was still afraid and trying to deal with having her nipples pinched, but, unless he was mistaken, she’d already accepted what was happening.
Knowing he had to push her, he jiggled the chain. Her nostrils flared. “That’s what I want, your full attention. The circulation’s being cut off here.” Careful not to risk ripping off the clamps, he pulled some more. It was getting easier, marginally. “What sucks the most is you can’t do anything about it.”
“I know, damn it.”
Struck by her attempt to communicate with him, he let go of the chain and started running his nails over the top sides of both breasts. Every pass left faint white lines that contrasted with her full flesh. He wasn’t sure what that felt like, maybe a blending of positive and negative sensations.
“Not going to kill me.” She clenched her teeth. “I know you aren’t going to kill me. I’ll hang—hang on to that. Let it—”
Acting without thought, he slapped her, cutting her off. A moment ago her eyes had appeared glazed, but he’d brought her back to the here and now.
“You’re not going away again, got it?” He slapped her a second time, leaving a red mark on her tan cheek. Hopefully she couldn’t guess he was trying to get through to himself, not her. “From now on what I say and do is the only thing you give a damn about, get it?” He slipped his forefinger under the chain and pulled up until she arched her back.
Do what’s expected of you, like you have countless times before.
“Get this through your head. Your survival depends on your ability to please me and whoever I sell you to.”
“Sell?”
Yes. “Did I give you permission to speak?”
Confusion now shared space with the pain in her expression. “Permission?”
“You know who’s in charge. I’ve changed my mind. There’s going to be a test after all.” He was being watched and judged. His performance needed to rock, to convince.
On the brink of spelling things out, he looked down at his prisoner while continuing to draw the chain and her breasts toward him. He’d wait her out, make her beg so Robert and the others would have no doubt of his ability to do his job. He sure as hell wouldn’t allow himself to get hung up again with questions of what made him think he had the right. Shit happened. This was a prime example. Only it wasn’t that simple.
“What test?” The question ended with a hiss, and she remained arched.
He leaned down so their faces were inches apart. She was an opponent, a member of the opposing team. “I’m your master. Call me Master. Otherwise, this is going to get worse.” He tugged.
“Ah! Oh shit.”
“Who am I?”
Tears welled. “Don’t make me—”
“Who am I?”
“Master,” she sobbed. “You’re my master.”
Instead of the sense of power he expected, he wished he was anywhere except there. Aware of the all-seeing cameras, he shoved the impulse into submission and kept the tension going on her breasts.
Her eyes glittered and her features contorted as she fought to accept what she couldn’t change. He’d broken several bones during his playing years, the most severe in his lower right leg three years ago. Writhing on the turf with a bone sticking through his flesh had hurt the worst by far. Surely what she was feeling wasn’t on the same level, but maybe there wasn’t enough difference between the helpless sensations. “There,” he said as he let up on the tension. “That wasn’t so hard. I won’t give you an ‘A’ because your heart wasn’t in it, but you’ve passed the first test.” Hopefully, so have I. “Reward time.”
Chapter Eight
She hadn’t done anything to deserve this. She was responsible and law-abiding. Her life had had its ups and downs, including a couple of major ones, but she’d been proud of her ability to cope. These days, she supported herself doing something she loved and was good at. One day she’d have a husband and children, but in the meantime she’d pay her taxes, vote and give unwanted dogs a home.
Why was she in this nightmare?
The man who’d insisted she call him Master had returned to the dresser she already dreaded. He hadn’t removed the nipple clamps and pain throbbed through her. Desperate as she was to ask how long he intended to keep her like this, she vowed not to beg to be set free.
When he turned toward her, she saw what reminded her of the kind of electric vibrator she occasionally used on sore muscles, except this one was shaped like a huge cock. He plugged it in and turned it on. The head pulsed. Was he going to place it on her breasts, maybe hold it against the clamps?
I don’t want this! For mercy’s sake, don’t put me through this.
Instead of giving voice to her fear, however, she forced herself to move beyond her bondage. Just because he’d imprisoned her body didn’t mean he’d done the same to her spirit. “This can’t be what it takes for you to feel like a man,” she threw at him. She’d deal with the consequences of her words later. “You’re everything the word ‘male’ stands for. Women— Women must fall all over themselves trying to get your attention, so why are you—”
“Shut up!” He slapped her cheek hard enough to knock her head to the side. “What motivates me is none of your damn business.”
As she waited for the stinging to subside, she warned herself not to say anything that might make him angry. The problem was, she didn’t know what would set him off and if she didn’t speak, he’d think he’d won.
He hadn’t. She wouldn’t let him.
Somehow.
He grabbed her chin and turned her head toward him. “Listen to me, slave, because I’m only going to explain this once. Any time you think you have something worth saying you’ll start by asking for permission. Let me hear you say it.”
Go to hell, you bastard. “Master.” She spat out the word. “May I speak?”
“No, you may not.”
His expression changed, became introspective, making her wonder what he was thinking. Then he jerked his head at the chain resting between her aching breasts. “To state the obvious, the clamps are an example of what constitutes pain here. Maybe I should leave you alone so you can fully, and at length, experience the sensation, but I’m going to have to do something about feeding you so you’ll stay strong. With that in mind, I’ve decided to move right onto bringing pleasure into the equation. That, in part, is why you need to remain quiet, so you can focus.”
She hated how he threw complex sentences at her when she’d become basic and primal, a tethered creature with an empty belly and clamped nipples. If it took calling him Master to get through this she would. Only she would know she was really calling him a bastard.
He turned off the vibrator and rubbed it over the cheek he’d slapped. “You live alone and haven’t dated recently, which means it’s just you and your sexual needs. The private detective said you don’t pick up men and don’t screw around.”
A private detective had been watching her? She felt sick.
“Maybe you
don’t have much of a sex drive, but I don’t think so and even if that’s true, Carnal has tested ways of turning slaves into nymphs. This”—he activated the vibrator—“never fails to do the job.”
The tool shook her face. Despite herself, she tried to turn from it, but he kept her where he wanted by tightening his hold on her chin. Already, she was less aware of the discomfort in her breasts.
“That’s a good slave. Embrace this lesson. The more you accept it, the more pleasure you’ll experience.”
Pleasure? Wondering if she dared believe him, she willed herself to look at him. After a few seconds, he released her chin and ran the vibrator down the side of her neck. From there he moved to her arms, down her sides, circled her belly. Anticipating the shuddering sensation on her breasts was driving her crazy. At the same time, she relaxed a little.
This man hadn’t just taken away her clothes and tethered her to a strange bed in a strange house, he might have a touch of humanity in him. Maybe he cared about her.
Maybe.
“You can speak now,” he said, “as long as you tell me what I want to hear. Do you appreciate this? It’s better than setting fire to your nipples.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “It is.”
“No.” He sounded more disappointed than angry. “What are you supposed to say?” He didn’t give her time to respond before picking up the chain and drawing both breasts away from her body. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he ran the vibrator from the inside of one breast to the other. Her breasts were indeed on fire, sparking as if he’d touched them with electricity.
“I don’t—please, what do you want me to—Master! You’re my master.”
Looking sober, he nodded. “Good. I’m going to give you a bit of a break by not requiring you to say anything else. The only thing you need to do is experience.”
As if she had a choice. The harsh upward pull on her nipples hurt and she’d have given anything to have it end. At the same time, the quivering felt good. He’d trapped her in a world filled with good and bad, desire and dread, and she couldn’t think how to make it end. Maybe she didn’t want it to.
“Think about this, slave. Pull sensation deep inside you and acknowledge that your master is responsible for everything you experience. If you please me, you’ll receive pleasure. If you anger me—well, I don’t have to spell it out.”
“No,” she managed. “You don’t, Master.”
He smiled. At least she thought he had because as off-balance as she was, she couldn’t be sure about anything.
“You’ll stumble during your training.” He let go of the chain and silenced the vibrator. “That’s to be expected. What you must understand is that I’m demanding. I won’t tolerate failure.”
Maybe he wanted her to tell him she would do her best to please him, but she couldn’t force out the words. She still felt as if she was being shaken and, if anything, the burning in her nipples was becoming worse.
“I’m more than your teacher, of course. I’m your master. Your body belongs to me.”
That was a warning, she had no doubt of it. Dreading his next move, she kept her attention locked on his hands. Horses did the same once they figured out what part of an owner’s body controlled everything. Master—was she already thinking him as that?—would feed or starve her, beat her or—or what?
“An example of what I mean by body ownership.” He once again activated the vibrator and ran it from her neck to the space between her gaping legs. Before she could give silent thanks because at least that was behind her, he touched her clit.
She shuddered and lifted her head trying to see.
“I’ve trained a few horses,” he said. “My experience isn’t as extensive as yours, but I think you’ll agree that the way to work with herd animals is to present yourself as the dominant member of the herd.” He slid the vibrator over one pussy lip, then the other. “That’s what I am, slave. The dominant one, which makes you the submissive.”
She wasn’t, damn it! No way would she submit to this bastard—unless she had no choice.
He lifted the tool so she could see it, then positioned it near her mouth. “Guess where it’s going. I haven’t checked to see whether you’re wet down there, but I strongly suggest you moisten this so it’ll go in easier.”
“It’s too big.”
“No it isn’t. In fact, I had it made to duplicate my cock’s dimensions. Look at it this way. You’re going to get advance indication of what fucking me is going to feel like.”
Why did she keep saying something when she didn’t want to communicate with him? Desperate to erect a barrier between them, she faced the wall on the opposite side of the bed from where he stood. How long would it be before he let her up?
“Have it your way,” he said. “But if it hurts going in, that’s on you.”
And if the vibrator caused her pain, it would make this so-called lesson even harder to endure. Even though she hated herself for giving in so easily, she swung her head toward him and stuck out her tongue. He pressed the now-quiet tool against her lips. She opened her mouth wide and tried not to think as she let him have his way. She repeatedly moistened the rubber-tasting head, gagging as she did.
When he withdrew the vibrator, she started at the slick surface. He was going to fuck her with it.
“Is that what capturing me is about?” She didn’t care whether he punished her. “You get off on torturing me?”
“Playing with you, not torture. I’ve long wondered how far I could push a woman and now I’m going to find out, but it’s a lot more than that.”
Hoping he wouldn’t spell out more than she could handle, she tried to close her eyes. Unfortunately, that reminded her of when he’d robbed her of the ability to see, and she opened them in time to see his attention shift from her face to her groin.
Get it over with. Let him have his way. Then he’ll let me eat.
She again lifted her head, but his hand was in the way. The moment the shaking sensation settled over her pussy, she filled her lungs and tried to find a place for her mind to go. The ocean—the ocean—
“Oh,” he said, “there’s something I haven’t told you. So far, you’ve only experienced the lowest setting.”
The shaking intensified, scaring and exciting her. As unwanted pleasure took hold, she acknowledged she’d suspected this would happen all along, but had been denying the possibility. She started rocking her hips and pulling on the ankle restraints, but of course she couldn’t get away.
Her pussy came to life, slipped into a place she couldn’t control.
“To point out the obvious, I’m strong. I can keep this against your pussy far longer than you can handle it.”
Her nerves under and around the vibrator head started to quiver. All too soon they’d short-circuit, taking her mind with them.
“Why?” She hated her pleading tone. “Master, why?”
He didn’t immediately answer. “I don’t need to explain.”
As the violent shaking continued, she again fought to take her mind somewhere else. She saw waves, but instead of lapping against the shore, they were attacking it. She tightened her inner muscles, but that only made things worse. He was right, he could torture her until she became crazy.
Crazy for a climax.
A new fear assaulted her. What if his intention wasn’t just to demonstrate how easy it was for him to make her climax but to force one explosion after another out of her? She might pass out from over-stimulation, but eventually she’d come to and he’d still be here. Waiting to break her apart again.
“Please. Please.”
“Please, you’re ready for the next step? That must be what you mean.”
The vibrations slowed. Praying for the impossible, she waited for him to turn it off. Instead, he used his fingers to draw her sex lips away from her opening while holding the vibrator head against the space between her pussy and anus. Shiver after shiver assaulted her.
“Going in.”
Her body foug
ht to repulse the vibrator. She sobbed in frustration, dread and anticipation as his tool filled her. He kept it up until she was stuffed, the shaking reaching her core.
“There you go. Daddy’s home. Take a minute to wrap your mind around this new development while I remind you of the pain element.”
She barely noticed when he slapped her left breast. Then he did the same to the right. The blows weren’t particularly hard, but her trapped nipples screamed a silent protest. Keeping the vibrator lodged inside her, he repeatedly slapped her breasts. Pain latched onto them. She grunted.
“Doesn’t sound as if you’re having much fun. Let’s see if I can do something about that.”
The beast in her pussy kicked into a higher gear. She hadn’t begun to accept the new assault when he started pulling up on the chain.
Her breasts were in agony, her pussy alive with hot need. She’d nearly drowned once, had gone down for the proverbial third time. Strangely, as her lungs had filled, she’d stopped being terrified and had started to feel calm. This was different and yet the same. In neither case did she have any control over what was happening.
“If you remember one thing about this,” he said, “remember that I can force you to experience everything I want you to. Your time of freedom is behind you. From now on I call the shots.”
The vibrator all but exploded, sending never-ending sparks through her. Her battery-run dildos were nothing compared to this. Most frightening, she couldn’t turn it off. It wouldn’t run down. Master could control her like this until she died.
She rolled her head about and yanked at her bonds. The pulling on her breasts seemed to be growing worse, not that she was in any position to judge. From the waist down she felt as if she’d stepped into an earthquake. Desperate to get away, she dug her heels into the bed and tried to scoot back, but of course Master kept after her.
Good. Even with all that helpless dread, it felt good.
“You’re sweating, slave. Your eyes keep rolling back. Can you hear yourself?”
Hear? What did that matter when a monster had taken charge of her sex? Master angled the vibrator one way then the other so the head sent shards of heat throughout her channel.