Her Master's Christmas

by Lily White

  “I was afraid I had the wrong place,” she explained, her words rushed and her voice a touch breathless. “My GPS led me right here, but as soon as I pulled up, I got confused why you would choose such a,” her eyes flicked over the dirty sinks and garbage scattered throughout, before settling on a used hypodermic needle in a corner, “disgusting place.”

  My lips twitched at her reaction because it was so similar to my own. Knowing that Aiden’s story about having been here previously to abduct a junkie wouldn’t work to calm her fears, I thought up another equally valid excuse.

  “You escaped your bodyguards, didn’t you?” Stepping closer, I reached out to run my finger along her collarbone. “Don’t you think they’ll be out looking for you?”

  A slight nod of her head was followed by a crooked grin. “The bastards bugged my car, and busted me last time I took off because of it. So this time, I took one of theirs.”

  Panic shot through me, a sudden urgency to hurry up and leave this place settling within the chaos of my churning stomach. Knowing Aiden would have also heard what Molly was telling me, I left it up to him as to what would be done.

  “I missed you,” Molly breathed out, a coy note to her voice as she stepped towards me with heat flashing behind her slightly bloodshot eyes. The scent of liquor was a strong perfume that wafted off her in a cloud.

  Refraining from gagging at the pungent scent, I smiled sweetly and wrapped my arms around the woman, knowing full well Aiden needed her back facing where he stood.

  “You missed me,” I laughed, my eyes scanning the distance past her shoulder in hopes Aiden was creeping forward to finish this. The bathroom wasn’t exactly a place I wanted to spend another minute in. “You only met me a few hours ago.”

  Her smile was so sweet that I felt bad for a moment.

  “Can I touch you again?”

  Movement in the distance caught my attention. My eyes flicked up to search the shadows behind Molly. Aiden stepped close enough that light could touch him, but at Molly’s question, a barely perceptible smirk pulled at his lips, the glimmer of humor a flash in his gaze just before he stepped back again. The bastard would let this scene play out if for nothing more than his own amusement.

  The stench of the facility was giving me a headache, the scent filled with waste, mildew and rot. My gorge rose at the combination. But I’d dutifully play along…if that is what my Master wanted.

  “Of course, you can.”

  Stepping back, I pressed my exposed shoulders to the wall, fighting to keep my expression interested rather than disgusted. Luckily, I’d had enough experience with Henley to become an expert at hiding my revulsion.

  Molly pushed close, her hands rubbing up my sides until they found the sides of my breasts. Glancing down, she licked her lips to watch my cleavage press together, the low neckline of the dress I wore giving her an ample view. “You really are absolutely stunning, Angela.”

  I flinched at the odd name, but then remembered it had been the alias I’d given her at the party.

  With regret in her voice, she confessed, “I wish I could be like you, elegant and dazzling, but also polished and proper.” Looking up, her eyes met mine. “My family doesn’t trust me as far as they can throw me.”

  “I wonder why…”

  Molly gasped at Aiden’s voice behind her, her hands dropping from my breasts and her body moving as if to turn around. Aiden stopped her before she could fully react, one hand reaching up to cover her mouth, while the other moved to her neck. I’d watched him use this trick before, but he never would explain it to me. He simply pressed down on a spot in the neck, holding his finger there until the person fell asleep and limp into his arms.

  Once Molly was unconscious, I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Took you long enough. I’m going to have to bathe in bleach just to get whatever diseases I just picked up off my skin.”

  His expression neutral, Aiden shifted Molly’s weight in his hold, his voice deceptively flat when he answered, “You may have to gargle with it as well if you continue speaking to me that way.”

  Threat given and received.

  Knowing better than to attempt to assist him with Molly’s weight, I allowed him to pass unconcerned that someone would try to stop us in this cesspool of a place. There weren’t people out in the open, but I had the distinct impression that some hid behind bushes or in the thickness of the outlying trees.

  “What are we going to do with her car? It can be tracked.”

  “We’re going to leave it here. The park has no connection to me. Therefore, I’m not concerned.”

  Reaching the parking lot, Aiden bound Molly’s limp wrists and ankles, placing her in the backseat of the sedan before rounding the back to open my door for me.

  I moved to sit down, but he caught my arm with his hand, dragging me close enough that his chest pressed against my back, his lips to my ear.

  “You realize that it might be a while before she wakes up in her room, right?”

  An icy finger of panic whispered along my spine. Swallowing down the fear that crept up my throat, I nodded.

  “Good,” he breathed out. “Because I can’t wait to discuss the way you just spoke to me in the bathroom.” Tsking softly, he smiled against my skin. “I do love it when you get rebellious, Pet. It only challenges me to become more creative in my training.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  AIDEN

  There is art in everything I do.

  The way I walk. The way I talk. The ways I dance, flirt, train and seduce. Everything can be honed into a fine weapon, the small nuances in life that most people don’t stop to consider being the subtlest weapons of all.

  Over the years, I’ve developed a precise method and schedule for bringing a new courtesan into the fold.

  Many men enjoy the intense fear of a woman trapped. They take pleasure in the sticky sweat that mists their skin, the wide-eyed stare, and the screams muffled beneath their hand. Some particularly kinky bastards enjoy the smell, the taste, the wet heat of blood on a woman’s skin…I just happen not to be one of them.

  My methods are unique. Through a strong hand, and the proper amount of humiliation and pain as to break a person’s spirit without breaking them apart completely, my methods instill a healthy dose of fear, yes, but also obedience, desire, and respect. Above all, they instill pride in the woman who is truly transformed.

  Pride to be a whore.

  Pride to be the most beautiful creature who ever deigned to walk this Earth.

  Pride in serving a man who has the affluence and power necessary to have such a beautiful creature at his feet.

  That is where I differ from most so-called Masters.

  True courtesans are meant to seduce, not cower in fear. They are meant to submit fully because their owner is so adept there isn’t a woman as lucky to be with him as his courtesan. Some sick fucks might enjoy a woman pissing herself while trembling at his feet. They might enjoy torturing a woman simply because it gets their dick hard. But the majority aren’t those men. They appreciate a woman who wants them. They appreciate a woman who can’t, and would never think to, say no to whatever desire they may have.

  My methods had never been an issue previously. Every woman sheds her former skin and gladly accepts their position as courtesan. A caterpillar turned butterfly, those women walk off into their new lives and obey their owners. I make sure of that because their perfect submission and resolute obedience is a reflection of the training they received at my hand.

  Every woman, that is, until Rebecca.

  Sitting in my office, my weight sunk heavily into my leather chair, my feet were propped on the desk, and my nerves were slightly on edge for the length of time it was taking Molly to wake up. Rebecca kneeled on the rug directly in front of my desk, her head bowed, her body held in a position that had become commonplace.

  Two and half hours I made her kneel there, and every so often, I’d look up from whatever paper I’d been reading to study her. It amused me that she
could submit so perfectly, but then still contain that streak of independence when her emotions ran so hot she forgot the woman she’d become.

  In truth, there was no person to blame but myself. That streak was delightful to a man like me, and I wasn’t willing to break her down and drive out that small bit of personality. The risk was too great of losing her entirely, and it was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

  My eyes flicked to the wall clock and I was instantly annoyed to see that the hours were moving into early morning and yet there hadn’t been a peep from our newest guest. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The smell of alcohol on Molly had been so strong that I’d needed to roll down the windows in the car on the way home just so I didn’t become inebriated by the fumes.

  Cutting into the thick silence that had weighed down on both Rebecca and me since we returned home, I asked, “Do you remember how you spoke to me, Pet? Do you recall the spitting tone of voice you believed would be allowed?”

  She sniffled as if crying, but I knew that her tears were feigned. Rebecca wasn’t one to cry, not unless her spirit was broken - or her heart - and kneeling on the floor wasn’t even close to the type of punishment it would require to tackle either of those tasks.

  “I’m sorry, Master.”

  Her voice was barely discernible it was so soft. A whisper that brushed across my skin, her voice promised me pleasure despite whether it was angry, happy or sad. My eyes flicked to the clock again and I decided there would be ample time for me to punish Rebecca and regain enough strength to begin the breakdown of Molly when she finally woke.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that the girl was lit by the time we took her…

  “I’m sorry?” Canting my head to the side, my eyes burned holes into the top of her pretty head. “Since when do apologies help? You’re smart enough to know they only piss me off more.”

  As a result of her multiple misbehaviors this evening, I was beginning to believe she was manipulating me into punishing her. Not one to be played so easily, I pushed up from my chair and rounded the side of the desk with measured steps.

  Stepping around the strawberry blonde beauty, I took a leisurely path towards my closet, knowing full well that every click of my heel caused her muscles to tense. She seemed to enjoy the punishments that followed with sex, but I believed I had something in my bag of tricks that would change that.

  The closet was a small shelving unit intended for basic office supplies, and it was large enough to fit my playthings nicely.

  My eyes scanned the organization bins, finally settling on a set of clamps that came in handy more than I’d imagined they would when I first bought them. After selecting a tongue clamp, I also chose a long, thin chain before shutting the door with a quiet click.

  “You’ve had a problem holding your tongue, my beauty. Twice now you’ve spoken out of turn; the first time to accuse me of not providing for you adequately and the second time because I wasn’t moving as fast as you would like.”

  Reaching her, I stood where her head was bowed and I kneeled down in front of her. The chain draped across my lap and the clamp balanced on my knee, I tucked my finger beneath her chin to tip her face up to mine.

  “You are a whore, Rebecca. A toy for my amusement. A trophy I use to openly display my status as a Master. It seems you’ve forgotten that.”

  Her bottom lip trembled, the skin between her eyes wrinkled with despair, but other than that, she showed no open reaction to my words. Rebecca was becoming a Master in her own right.

  No longer the emotional twit she’d been when we first met, she’d learned to hide her reaction behind a blank mask. The key to controlling another person is to first learn how to control yourself, and Rebecca had mastered that task. I doubted there were many men left in the world who could force her to show any emotion she wasn’t comfortable revealing.

  Unfortunately for her, she was unevenly matched. It was my job to bring the emotion out anyway. And I take my job very seriously.

  “Earlier tonight you told me you wanted me to give you something that proved you were mine. Yet, while making this request of me, you refused to follow the demands I’ve made of you.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction, but she remained perfectly still otherwise.

  “That’s not very wise on your part. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Master…” It was a breathless whisper, a plea for mercy.

  Mercy was not something I could give her.

  Brushing my palm down her cheek, I traced the shape of her bottom lip with my thumb, applying just enough pressure to pull her lips apart. Her eyes held mine as I leaned forward, desire pooling in the green depths. Our mouths joined together and I kissed her with as much angry passion as I could muster. Body shuddering in response to the kiss, Rebecca relaxed, her anxiety replaced by heat and carnal seduction. Before she could go completely limp, I reminded her that this was punishment, inwardly regretting that it would be one that she would not enjoy.

  Such was the job of a Master, but I wouldn’t lie to myself by pretending it would hurt us both. No. This would hurt her much more than it would hurt me. For me, it would be fun. Killing two birds with one tiny stone, I settled on my game plan and locked my eyes with hers as my teeth bit down to lock on the tip of her tongue.

  She knew better than to move, knew better than to fight as I pulled the tip of her tongue out of her mouth, replacing my teeth with my thumb and forefinger once enough of her tongue was exposed.

  “If you’re not able to hold your tongue, and thus respect your position as courtesan when faced with your Master, I’ll hold your tongue for you.”

  Eyes widening with fear, Rebecca didn’t so much as blink when I locked the clamp over her tongue. The heavy instrument wouldn’t be so tight as to cut off the circulation, but it was tight enough to cause some discomfort. After threading the long, thin chain through the finger holds on the end of the clamp, I stood up.

  “You’ll need to undress, Pet. For the purposes I have planned for you, I’ll need that gorgeous body of yours on full display.”

  Watching her remove her clothes with her tongue hanging out of her mouth like a dog made it very difficult for me to stifle my laughter. She looked ridiculous, but at the same time turned me on like no other woman had done before. Even with a metal clamp hanging off her tongue, she moved with grace to undress, her body seducing me even though she wasn’t trying. It was effortless, her ability to capture my attention and hold it in her masterful grasp.

  Once she was naked, I gripped the chain in my hands and walked past Rebecca, waited for her to turn so that she was crawling behind me. I flipped the chain over my shoulder, applying just enough pressure that it would pull her tongue forward without ripping it completely from her mouth. I was quite fond of her tongue and would regret causing it any permanent damage.

  Keeping my pace brisk, I walked down the hall with Rebecca crawling as fast as she was able in order to keep up. Every so often I’d glance back at her to see pure anger written across her features.

  And there it was. The emotion I knew was buried inside her. In normal circumstances, she’d learned to disguise it well, but when pushed, I knew she couldn’t contain it. Seeing her anger lit a fire inside me, one I would have to extinguish during the pain and humiliation part of this particular punishment.

  To say I was pleased with myself would be an understatement.

  Reaching the door of the room where Molly lay unconscious, I turned to Rebecca and ordered her to kneel with her hands extended out as if to accept some paltry offering. She positioned herself beautifully, her breasts held out, her shoulders rolled back, her legs parted just enough to give me access if I wanted it. I removed the clamp from her tongue and placed it in her hands.

  “Hold that for me. Do not move. Do not drop it and do not speak unless spoken to. If you fail to obey me, I’ll replace the clamp on your tongue and have you hold the chain for the rest of the night. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.” />
  Satisfied with her response, I stood up and opened Molly’s door. The sound of soft snoring caused my brow to wrinkle with annoyance. In many ways, I was breaking away from the training methods I’d constructed years ago for molding a courtesan, however I was faced with a new task tonight by punishing one courtesan while, at the same time, introducing a new woman into the fold. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I was willing to bend the rules in order to meet this particular challenge.

  Stepping up to the bed where I hadn’t even bothered to restrain the drunken mess of a woman, I gripped my fingers into her hair and pulled her face from the mattress.

  Her eyes opened, as well as her mouth, her bleary complaints muffled by the confusion of being pulled from sleep and waking in a dark room with a stranger holding her by her hair.

  “Good morning, Courtesan. I’d love to begin your training right this second, but unfortunately we have a small problem we need to address first.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  REBECCA

  I heard the low murmur of his voice before the first scream tore from Molly’s throat. He hadn’t bothered to close the door and I was nervous what this break in his standard behavior could mean.

  Although cruel and cunning, Aiden was also predictable; at least when it came to the first few days he had a new assignment. He’d always allow the women to wake up in the dark room alone. He’d allow them to scream until they exhausted themselves. He’d allow them to come to terms with their environment and situation before introducing himself and explaining what their lives would become.

  I was never allowed in the room - or near it, for that matter - until tonight.

  My tongue throbbed from the pain of the clip. Much like the nipple clamps Aiden enjoyed using on me, my tongue had gone numb while the clip was on, the pain not fully igniting until he removed it to allow the nerve endings to spread their agonizing fire. It wasn’t pain I couldn’t endure, but it wasn’t pain I could enjoy either.