by Vonna Harper
The setup complete, he stepped back and studied what he’d accomplished. She had that wide-eyed look, and he wondered if she was berating herself for not trying to run when she’d had the chance, except she’d never had one.
He’d read about her mother dying of cancer when she was little, but hadn’t given that much thought. Instead, he’d fixed on her father’s death in a farming accident. Along with realizing that the loss of her parents made her the kind of outsider Carnal was interested in, he’d wondered whether she’d had to finish growing up on her own. He hadn’t expected to hear how much she valued life. Damn it, if he was going to concentrate on what he needed and wanted to accomplish, he had to stop thinking about what went on inside her head.
He reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors he could barely get his oversized fingers through. Trying to ignore how the metal pinched him, he grabbed hold of some of her pubic hair and cut it, careful not to touch her flesh.
Her bound hands hovered near his head while her legs jumped. He severed another hunk and placed the hairs on her thigh. Her pussy was so close, the smell of her earlier excitement invading his senses.
“This is a first?” he asked, not because he gave a damn whether she’d ever shaved herself there, but because he needed something beyond her sex to think about. “You’ve never done this before?”
“No.” Her voice sounded strangled and her legs trembled even more. “Please don’t…”
Ignoring the unfinished plea, he continued trimming her bush as short as he dared. He’d been given the opportunity to shave a couple of slaves, but not only had he removed just a bit of stubble, those females had been used to the operation. Sensing his slave’s nervousness turned him on.
“This is a test,” he said as she extended her fingers, stopping just short of touching his face. He wondered what that would feel like. “Lay a hand on me and you’re going to regret it.”
Her breath hissed and she leaned back, only to rock forward and stare down at her crotch as the blades neared her labia.
“You’re scared, right?”
“Of course I am, Master.”
Even though he resented her sharp retort, he had to give her points both for honesty and for remembering what to call him. He’d already done all the damage he could with the scissors, yet kept snipping at stray hairs. She’d tucked her useless hands under her chin and against her throat. Only once did she try to shift position on the counter, but he’d tied her so tightly she couldn’t move. Trapping her nipples under metal earlier had awakened his sense of power, but this touched something even deeper. Before long she would be crouched before him with her head on the floor and her ass high for the taking. He’d partaken of a number of such offerings here so knew how damn good it felt. In contrast, altering her appearance took him somewhere he’d never been. He wasn’t sure how he felt about what he was doing, almost as if he should apologize.
Hell no!
“This takes nudity to a new level,” he said unnecessarily.
He worked his fingers out of the scissors’ openings, put them back in the drawer and selected a razor. After putting it on the counter where she could see but not touch it, he started water running in the nearby sink. As he waited for the water to warm, he removed the lid from a can of shaving cream. Maybe the time would come when he’d tell her that his football injuries had forced him to comprehend helplessness, but maybe not. He dampened a washcloth and placed it over where her bush had been. That was when he realized he could expose her pussy even more. Whoever had modified this bathroom had planned for every possibility, as witnessed by the chain and hook hanging over and behind her.
He lifted her arms and stretched her out and back so her weight rested on her tailbone. After running the hook through the handy ring in the leather around her wrists, he activated a lever that stretched her even more. The way he’d positioned her, she could no longer see her pussy.
Time to see how she handled even more loss of self.
“What say we get this over with? I don’t want you getting bored.”
“I can’t stop shaking. Don’t cut me.”
“What was that? An order? You should know better.”
“That’s not what I—”
He whipped off the washcloth and slapped her pussy. “This defiance of yours is getting tiresome. I can and will correct you as long and often as need be.”
When she didn’t respond, he took hold of her hair and bent her head forward so he had a clear view of her expression. She was overwhelmed but not defeated.
She returned his gaze. “I’m sorry, Master.”
She wasn’t, but if he took the time to try to change that, who knew when he’d finish getting her presentable according to Carnal standards? Management might even criticize his performance. Much as it galled him to admit it, he was still conditioned by years of doing what coaches expected.
“We’ll talk about this later.” He let go of her hair and pumped shaving cream into his hand, which he transferred to her mons. He hoped the camera captured her expression. He’d get there in terms of slave training, he just needed time.
Shaving the still-trembling slave took all his concentration, and undoubtedly longer than it did experienced trainers, but at last he was done. He again dampened the washcloth and wiped off the residual foam, going slowly so he could explore every inch of her sex. Whenever his mother had shaved her legs, she’d finished by applying hand cream, but that could wait here until his slave had taken another shower.
His slave. Not just a product he’d offer for sale when he was finished with her.
“How does this feel?” he asked, determined to silence the crazy thought. He lightly raked his fingers over her newly exposed flesh.
“Strange.”
“That’s all? Surely you can give me a better explanation. What about when I do this?” He rubbed her labia.
Her breath snagged. “I don’t— What do you want me to say, Master?”
She might not have known it, but she’d stepped into a trap he intended to take advantage of. After planting his hands near the insides of her thighs, he caught her labia between thumbs and forefingers and drew them away from her body much as he’d done to her breasts earlier. She held her breath.
“I want a blow by blow of everything you’re experiencing and make the explanation loud enough for your audience to hear.”
She twisted her body marginally to the left then reversed direction. As he kept the tension going, he guessed she was trying to physically separate herself from what he was doing, which was the last thing he wanted. The two of them were going to get close, maybe dangerously so.
“Let me help you get started,” he finally thought to say. “What part of your body are you most aware of?”
“My pussy.”
“What about it?”
A long, shuddering breath had him thinking she was debating saying anything. Unfortunately, when a master issued a command, a slave obeyed. He increased the tension.
Her leg muscles tightened. “You—you have hold of it. It feels as if it no longer belongs to me.”
Because he hadn’t expected that much honesty, he backed off until she stopped trying to lift herself off the counter. When he drew her sex lips apart, moisture glistened in the dark hole. He could lose himself in it, forget how to talk if he wasn’t careful.
“You want back ownership of your sex, right?” he asked. “Maybe you’re praying you can trust me to be careful.”
She struggled to sit upright. “I want…”
“No, no, partial responses aren’t acceptable. Give it another try.”
Her head fell back and she relaxed, which made him wonder if she’d given up. Thinking that was what it might be reminded him who held the power so he released her lips and cupped his hand over her sex. He pressed, wiggling his fingers as he did.
“Oh!”
“Oh what?”
“I’m, ah, afraid of you,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “I don’t
want to be, but I can’t help it.”
I don’t want you to be. “That’s better, more honest. Go on.”
Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed. She’d nearly stopped shaking, but he wasn’t deluded enough to think she might already be with the program.
“This won’t end until I tell you what you want to hear,” she muttered. “I understand.”
What would it take to extinguish her fire—if he really wanted to? “Just say it then.”
“Master, nothing like this has ever happened to me. I, ah, I know a woman who was raped but I never was. I never…”
Not that it mattered, considering what he was doing to her, but he was glad to hear that. He’d always considered rapists to be animals. Still embracing her pussy, he started moving his hand back and forth, maybe massaging her.
“Ah,” she whispered.
“Ah what?”
She didn’t respond, but he kept going. Her useless movements continued and her breathing became labored.
“Sucks to be a member of the female sex, doesn’t it?” he teased and slipped a forefinger into her opening. “Especially one with a healthy sexual appetite. Are you still afraid of me?”
“Yes,” she said after a pause. Her head remained against the wall behind her, her eyes now hooded.
He worked his finger deeper. “Because you’re scared I’m going to hurt you?”
“Yes.”
Damn it, why had he asked that question and was there really a distinction between rape and what he was doing? He needed there to be one. “What else?”
She jolted only to fall back again. “I don’t— I don’t want you to know—”
“It’s my right.” Determined to live in the moment without too much thinking, he started pumping. “I can’t consider my job complete until you have no secrets left.” That was what Robert and the others had told him. “Maybe you’re hung up wondering when I’m going to put a butt plug in your rear opening.”
Once again she tried to sit upright, which she couldn’t do because her arms were so far behind her. “Please don’t, Master.”
She sounded less self-contained and more unsure. Now he was getting somewhere, living up to Carnal expectations. “I’m not going to start prepping you for back door action today. Back to the issue at hand.” He worked a second finger next to the one already inside her and began a thrusting action. Her juices flooded his fingers.
Come to me. Become what you were meant to be.
“What, beside fear, are you experiencing?”
She’d almost stopped rocking her head, but the movement picked up. At the same time, shudders moved wavelike throughout her.
“Arousal. I don’t want to be like this, but I can’t stop myself.”
“I don’t blame you.” Why hadn’t he thought to bring in the vibrator? In the wake of what he’d put her through earlier, it shouldn’t take much to push her off the edge. “It isn’t as if you have anything else to think about, and you can’t do anything except sit there with your legs apart.”
The hand he’d placed against her pussy was at an awkward angle. Vowing to get to her before he had to quit, he ran his free hand under her buttocks and worked his middle finger between her ass cheeks. He continued fucking her channel.
“Still aroused? Maybe I’m boring you.”
“No, oh no.” Her toes curled and her fingers clenched. Goosebumps appeared on her sides. Once, twice, her inner muscles tightened around his fingers. Then she must have found a measure of self-control because she stopped fucking him back. “Trying—trying so hard not to— I don’t want— You can’t make me…”
“Ah, but I can. I already have.” He felt strong, good, no longer conflicted. “Why the hell don’t you want to come?”
The muscles on the sides of her neck stood out and hard as she was clenching her teeth, he hoped she didn’t break one. He admired her determination. At the same time, his own resolve grew. He didn’t need a vibrator to get to her, and the sooner she understood that, the better.
He kept his nails short. Just the same, he didn’t want to take a chance on injuring her bung hole, so he settled for finger-plugging it. Obviously it had made an impact, because she kept trying to levitate. She might have stood a better chance of pulling it off if he stopped fucking her sex hole, but he didn’t.
“Here we go again,” he teased. “Too bad you’re still at a disadvantage. Like it or not, I’m going to win this round.”
“Not fair! Damn it, not fair.”
Instead of ramming her outburst down her throat as he was expected to do, he shrugged. “Life isn’t fair. Some days are worse than others. Guess which today is.”
Her mouth opened then closed, leaving him to wonder what she’d stopped herself from saying.
It took some doing, but he managed to contort his upper body enough to latch onto a breast with his mouth. He could have held on if he used his teeth, which he wasn’t about to do. However, judging by her ragged sobs, he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do.
She was trapped and knew it, was helpless to stop him from assaulting her. He nibbled on her other breast, holding on longer than he had with the first one and applying a little more pressure.
“Master, oh, Master.”
Her whimper ended his moments of self-recrimination. He started to turn from her so he could stare at the mirror when it dawned on him that maybe she was winning this round after all. Now that she was aroused, all she needed was to climax to feel good about how the time in the bathroom had gone. A little more effort on his part and she’d be gone.
“That’s enough,” he announced and jerked back his hands. He held them up so she could see that the right one was slick with her juices. “You haven’t earned this.”
Chapter Twelve
During her first few months as a paid jockey, Marina had come home every day feeling as if she’d been beaten up. Even a hot shower and aspirin hadn’t completely eased her aching muscles. Then she’d started lifting weights on a regular basis. As a result, unless she was thrown, she no longer hurt after a long day at the race track.
In undeniable contrast, Master’s methods had left her feeling as if he’d been pounding on her. She might not have had bruises and he hadn’t broken her flesh, but she couldn’t remember ever feeling this sensitive.
After denying her a climax, he’d unfastened her legs and arms and let her step into the shower. This time he hadn’t joined her, but even with the steam, he’d undoubtedly seen every inch of her as she’d soaped and rinsed. He’d ordered her to get out and stand before him, then had thoroughly dried her. The feel of terrycloth against her newly denuded pussy was both unnerving and sensual. When he was done, he’d produced some cream and slathered it all over her. If that wasn’t enough intimacy, he’d ordered her to spread her legs and used a different cream around her sex organs. Within seconds the abraded sensation there ended. A little later she’d started to feel overly warm between her legs.
“A special Carnal treatment,” he’d told her as he’d fastened her hands behind her and again tethered her to the bed.
Hours had passed before she’d stopped feeling hot and aroused down there. If she’d had use of her hands she would have masturbated to what would have been an easy climax, but he’d made sure she couldn’t. He’d left her alone most of the time, and although she’d wanted to lie down, having her hands behind her stopped her. As a result, she’d had no choice but to sit on the side of the bed waiting for Master to return.
Finally, he had. He’d fed her another sandwich and held two bottles of water for her to drink. After helping her use the toilet, he’d again harnessed her to the damn bed. He’d left without saying a word.
His silence was harder on her nerves than not being able to do anything. After she’d eaten, she’d tried to ask him what he intended to do with her, but had stopped when he’d slapped her breasts. The message had stuck. He’d tell her what he wanted her to know when it entertained him to do so. She had no choice but to
wait.
At least he’d returned after dark, and again had silently taken her into the bathroom. Afterward, he’d anchored her to the bed with a collar and chain. As she’d tried to fall asleep under the blanket he’d thrown over her, she’d told herself to be grateful because at least she had back use of her arms and legs. She could have masturbated, but by then the cream had worn off and she couldn’t bring herself to touch that part of her body. She hated thinking about how helpless she’d been while he’d shaved her where she’d never felt a razor.
* * * *
Morning had found its way through the small, high window by the time Master opened the door and entered. She didn’t know how long she’d been awake, long enough for her bladder to feel full, and dread that he’d abandoned her to have seeped into her pores. Her heartbeat kicked up at the sight of him, but she told herself it was only because he’d become the provider of food, water and bathroom breaks.
“Lesson three coming up.” He threw a piece of dry toast on the bed, followed by a small bottle she guessed held orange juice. “Time to get you ready.”
Even though he hadn’t given her permission to eat, she started chewing on the toast. At least it had grains in it and provided some sustenance. The orange juice was cold and tasted wonderful. When she was done, she placed her hands in her lap. Her fingers glided over her exposed mons.
He unfastened the neck chain from the bed but didn’t take off the collar. As she walked ahead of him into the bathroom, the chain rubbed between her breasts and legs, prompting her to hold it out from her body. She’d checked earlier so knew she couldn’t remove the leather collar. At least whoever had made it had placed something soft, fur maybe, next to her flesh.
After she’d used the toilet, he handed her a toothbrush.
“Thank you, Master,” she said.
He responded with a grunt. After she’d brushed her teeth, he lifted her back onto the counter. Anticipation had her shaking again. He took hold of her nipples, prompting her to clench her fists to keep from trying to push him away.
