by Kitty Thomas
He came with a guttural sound, his hand catching some of his spendings. He raised the hand to her mouth, and she languidly licked it clean.
He smiled. “Good girl.”
She felt on fire from that look. She so desperately needed to come, but she knew he didn't have time right now.
When they got out of the shower, Lindsay wrapped a towel around his waist and then took a second one and carefully dried her. He led her back into the bedroom where for the first time she noticed he'd put something on the dresser while she'd been fake sleeping earlier.
A chastity belt. The kind they used for training at the house with a thick metal phallus attached to the inside of it.
“I told you, you would not be handling your own orgasms from here on out. Gabe already has the key. You will let him know when you need to use the facilities, but if you try to touch yourself while taking care of that business, there will be a punishment waiting for you.”
She eyed the contraption warily. “Master, I-I can't. You can't put that inside me. I'm too sore from last night.”
A raised eyebrow.
“Master, please. It will hurt.”
He bent to whisper in her ear. “Good. You ran from me. You made me chase you.”
“You liked it.”
He chuckled. “I like you.”
She flushed with pleasure at that. “Please...” she tried again.
“I'll make it easy on you. Sit on the dresser and spread your legs.”
She did so, afraid she knew where this was going. And she was right. A few moments later he was rubbing the arousal cream between her legs to make her wet so she could take what he planned to keep shoved inside her all day.
He lubed the metal phallus while he waited for the cream to take effect.
Minutes later, she whimpered.
“Oh good. You're ready.” He helped her into the chastity belt, firmly seating the phallus inside her. Pain was soon dwarfed by arousal.
She gripped his arms and gasped at the feeling of fullness and absolute need that swamped her. She straddled his thigh and tried to rub herself to no avail. He locked the belt in place.
Then he got dressed as if he hadn't just locked her into a chastity belt. Or as if she hadn't just bucked against his leg like some wild animal in heat.
“Be glad I'm not using the one with the vibrator,” he said, slipping his tie around his neck with practiced ease. He opened a drawer in the dresser and pulled out a black binder and tossed it on the bed.
“I expect you to have read that cover to cover when I get home tonight. I want everything from you. The full protocol. I'll be home by nine. I want you waiting for me this time. Exactly like you know I'll want you.”
Shit. She'd read bits of the training manual before. The standards that they trained all the girls with. Somehow when he'd bought her, it hadn't occurred to her that she was getting the full and complete treatment... that he would demand the protocol. She wasn't even sure that Annette and Mina did all that. And she was certain Julie didn't.
Something clenched low inside her gut.
“Oh come on, kitten. We've both waited far too long for this to phone it in. You want the full protocol. I know you. Tell me I'm wrong.”
But she couldn't. Because he wasn't wrong. She wanted everything in the same deeply twisted way that he did. She just couldn't believe she was getting it.
She'd never seen this side of Lindsay. She was pretty sure no one in the house had seen this side of Lindsay.
“How have you not taken someone for yourself before now?” she asked. If his needs went this deep how could he just casually play with people?
“You were too broken, and you were the one I wanted.”
What did one even say to that? Some part of her still wanted to hate him. It was far too soon to start falling, or forgiving him, but she didn't have it in her just now. And what she did have in her was far too distracting for deep angst-filled thoughts.
“Come here, kitten.”
When she went to him, he pulled her into an embrace and kissed the side of her throat. “Be good. I'll see you tonight.”
And then he was gone.
Shannon gripped the edge of the dresser and leaned against it. The cream was driving her crazy, and there was nothing that would ease it.
Bastard.
She got dressed in some of the casual workout clothes the girls all wore around the house and tried to get herself together enough to go down for breakfast. She felt disheveled but there was no amount of primping that was going to fix it.
She raised her shirt and looked again in the mirror at the scars she'd spent so much time trying not to look at. How could she want Lindsay with... this? He was right, though. He hadn't created the marks, and as impossible as it was for her to believe, he wanted her. He'd made that pretty explicit when he'd ravaged her like a rutting beast the previous night against the wall.
She pulled the shirt back in place and went downstairs, suppressing a smile.
The cafeteria was already full when she got there. She carefully avoided looking at the space under the giant wall clock where she'd been fucked raw only a few hours ago.
Shannon got a tray and her normal sausage and eggs and coffee and went to join Mina, Annette, and Julie at their table.
They called it the Lifer Table—the table for the ones who belonged to one of the men of the house. The permanent residents.
“So,” Mina said conversationally when she sat down, “I'm told he bought you. I would say I told you so, but...”
Shannon could barely focus on her food and she surely couldn't be bothered with Mina's gentle teasing because the combined effects of the cream and the thick metal shaft inside her was about to drive her over the edge. She tried to subtly rock forward in her chair. If she could just...
“Yeah, that won't work,” Annette said.
“What won't work?” Shannon asked, pretending innocence.
“The chastity belt, you can't get yourself off that way. You're just going to have to wait until he gets home and then hope he has mercy on you.”
“I'm not wearing a...” she protested.
“Yes you are. You think you're the only one who's tried that move? You can't fuck yourself on it. It's already inside you.”
Despite all the sexual things she'd done with Annette, she felt herself blush at her words all the same.
“You could sneak the key from Gabe, and then we could...” Shannon said.
Annette laughed. “As much as I would like to play with you today, if I helped you escape your master's torments, Anton would have my ass. I know better than to interfere.”
Shannon didn't know how the hell she was going to focus on reading the training manual or how she would remember anything it said.
She glanced over at Julie studiously buttering a croissant. They were all sure she was doing kinky stuff with Gabe. He was her master after all. But she was very shy and never talked about it.
Shannon suddenly felt watched. She looked up to see Brian standing at the other end of the room, staring at her, his expression inscrutable. She hadn't had this much of his undivided attention since that day. She'd hoped he'd somehow forgotten about her, but the look he gave her suggested a new interest. She shuddered and broke his gaze.
64
Lindsay strode into the mansion just after nine o'clock. He'd again had dinner in the city. This time when he reached his suite on the second floor, Shannon was waiting where he told her to be. She was naked except for the chastity belt, kneeling in the middle of the room, facing the door with her legs spread wide, her gaze cast down at the ground, palms up on her thighs.
He wasn't sure how long she'd waited like this, but when she realized the door had opened, she quickly glanced up to see it was him. She slowly crawled over and pressed her lips against the soft Italian leather of his shoes. Then she resumed her former kneeling position beside him.
“Master,” she said quietly.
Lindsay let out a harsh breath
. Somehow training the other girls to do this hadn't had the same effect as when it was directed at him from someone who was completely and truly his.
“I see you've read the manual. Did you read all of it?”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
She looked flushed and turned on. Her sweet little cunt had been filled all day long waiting for him to ease her need.
“Did Gabe put more of the cream on throughout the day?”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
Lindsay hadn't bothered to tell her that had been part of his evil plan. Any time the belt came off, before it went back on, he'd told Gabe to put a generous amount of the arousal cream on her.
“And when was the last time he rubbed the cream into your pussy?”
“H-half an hour ago. He said I should be ready for your use when you got here.”
Her face turned a lovely dark pink at that admission.
Lindsay felt the dark smile curve his lips. Gabe was a very good friend. He hadn't been that specific about the arousal cream schedule, but knowing the cream was currently driving her to madness was a bonus. And the fact that despite what it must be doing to her, she was following protocol? Well, Lindsay was a stupid son of a bitch for not claiming her sooner.
“And during one of these intimate moments with Gabe, did you try to entice him to get you off?” he asked.
She looked up, a guilty expression painted across her face. Well, no one was perfect.
“I see. So then a punishment is also in order.”
“Master, please. I'm sorry.”
“I know, kitten. But I still have to punish you. Tell me what you did. I want details. And look at me when you tell me.”
Her gaze rose to his. “I-I rubbed against him. I begged him to fuck me. I begged him to let me touch myself.”
“And did he let you come?”
She shook her head. “No, Master.”
“Good.” He took her hands in his and helped her stand.
“Are you going to hurt me?”
Lindsay leaned in close to her ear, “It will hurt, but I will never harm you.” He pressed his lips to the curve where her delicate neck met her shoulder—the neck a collar would be locked around very soon. “You need a strict master. You feel safest inside tighter bonds. I remember all our sessions in my office in the city. Everything you told me. I know what you need, kitten, and I am all in.”
He heard the breath hitch in her throat and pulled back to see the desperate need shining out from her eyes. Part of it was the cream and the arousal he'd tormented her with all day in his absence. Part of it was her unconscious admission that what he'd just said was the absolute truth. She did need the bars to be secure.
He knew her perhaps better than any other man could ever know her because inside the warm bubble of doctor/patient confidentiality all those years ago, she'd told him deeply personal things he knew she wouldn't have allowed herself to tell anyone else. Even someone who owned her. And he knew this because within the safety of his office she'd admitted she hadn't told her last master everything inside her soul. She'd held things back. Lindsay was the only man who knew it all.
He took the key from his pocket, unlocked the chastity belt, and helped her out of it. She just whimpered as the dildo slid out of her pussy. He knew she regretted the loss of being filled with it even as she hadn't been able to get herself off all day with it inside her.
Lindsay didn't touch her, not yet. He wanted to drag out her torment some more. He went to the closet and took out a long red silk robe and helped her into it. He wouldn't parade her around the house naked when he knew how it upset her for others to see her scars. He tied the sash securely around her waist and led her down to the main level.
They passed a small group of girls whispering curiously. Everyone in the house knew Shannon was his now, and apparently it was becoming the subject of gossip and endless speculation. He shot them a dark look, and they immediately went still and quiet. He turned his attention back to Shannon and guided her to one of the playrooms.
These rooms weren't set up for punishment, though there were a few whipping implements hanging on the wall of the room he took her to.
She'd been brave when he'd taken her to Brian's dungeons that first night, but Lindsay didn't want to risk traumatizing her by taking her there all the time—especially not now, when it was still early enough that Brian would be awake and might be using one of those rooms himself. If they were to pass each other in the hall, Lindsay wasn't sure how she would react.
He led her into the playroom and turned the deadbolt on the door, locking them in together. She spun at that, watching him warily, waiting for whatever was coming next, no doubt reminding herself over and over inside her mind that he wasn't Brian.
Tonight he'd brought her to the room they used to stage dirty photos and video for prospective buyers. Lindsay's pants tightened uncomfortably as he remembered making the videos of Shannon the day before Brian had nearly killed her. He'd been the one behind the camera that day, giving her direction as she seduced the men who would put in bids to put a collar around her throat.
He'd found himself almost unbearably jealous of whoever would buy her. He'd wanted to keep the videos for himself and never let another soul see them, never let anyone else buy her. But after Brian had hurt her, Lindsay couldn't bring himself to watch them again. There was too much footage of her unmarred back. It was too harsh a reminder of how she'd been destroyed.
He shook the memories away and turned his focus back to Shannon, but the look on her face said she remembered the last time they were in this room together, too.
“I wanted to be yours that day,” Shannon said almost wistfully as if she weren't his now. But he understood where the wistfulness came from. Things could have been so much different between them. If he hadn't been such a fool. He should have taken her for himself that day. He'd been so close to doing it, so close to saying to hell with the rules and protocols of the house. To hell with the profit. He'd wanted her more than the money. He'd thought perhaps in a few days he'd be able to bring himself to just take what he wanted. He'd just needed a day or two to sort out his feelings, to make a definite decision. But then everything had changed, and it was too late.
“Have you been in this room since the day we filmed?”
She shook her head. “I've been in the other playrooms, but not this one.”
He watched her carefully, studying her every movement, waiting to see if she'd fall apart, if she'd cry her pretty tears and beg him. Suddenly the last thing he wanted to do was punish her for anything. It wasn't as though he was genuinely pissed off about her begging Gabe for release. Of course she would beg. Lindsay had tormented her all day by proxy. He would have been concerned if she hadn't pushed the limits.
“Kitten, how would you like to earn a little mercy?”
She turned toward him, appearing nervous and shy. It was easy to forget this was all still so new for her, that though she was absolutely filthy in the most wonderful ways, she was long out of practice to the point that everything she'd once taken for granted must feel so foreign now.
“What would I have to do to earn a little mercy?” she asked, absently twisting a thick strand of dark hair around her fingers and biting her bottom lip.
Lindsay felt the evil smile edge up his face. “I want to make a dirty video with you.”
“Will anyone else see it?” she asked, still playing nervously with her hair.
He wanted to tell her it would only be for him, but he didn't want to make a promise he might later decide he didn't want to keep. “It doesn't matter who I show it to. You can have pain or a little exhibitionism for the camera. Your choice.”
Maybe he was punishing her after all because surely the threat that others might see compromising videos of her with those scars across her back was its own form of punishment. He waited for her to choose pain over the threat of exposure, but she didn't.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I'll make
a video.”
“Good girl.”
Lindsay turned on the studio lighting. It would take a few minutes for them to be at full brightness. Then he turned the camera on and positioned it where he wanted it so that there was a clear shot of the round bed in the middle of the room. He stood behind the camera, watching the image on a fold out screen, revealing the view the lens saw.
“Take off the robe and crawl onto the bed,” he said.
She hesitated only a moment before she untied the sash and let the robe slide off her body onto the floor and got onto the bed.
“On your hands and knees,” he said.
When she'd gone to the middle of the bed on her hands and knees, Lindsay took the camera off the tripod and moved in closer, walking in a circle around the bed. She cried quietly as he circled her.
“Why are you crying, kitten?”
She shrugged, but they both knew why. He pulled her long hair away from her back and walked around her, capturing everything on film. No matter what she might believe, he wasn't punishing her. He was punishing himself. Because he was going to watch this footage later, just to take a good long hard look at what his weakness had done to her.
He held the camera with one hand while his fingers dipped inside her with the other. She was so fucking wet. She bucked against him, fucking herself on his fingers, gasping at the contact she'd been denied all day.
“You're a dirty little whore, you know that, Shannon?”
“Yes, Master,” she said unable to stop fucking herself on his fingers.
He pulled his hand away and slapped her ass hard, causing her to gulp in air, surprised.
“Y-you said I could earn mercy,” she said.
Lindsay chuckled. “That wasn't punishment.” But a red swollen hand print glared back at him and the camera lens making a liar of him. He took the camera back to its place on the tripod, then he zoomed the lens on her.
“Arch your back and put your ass in the air so we get a good close-up shot of your pussy.” He'd just said we. Who did he intend to share this video with? Her answering whimper said she'd heard that we as well. “Good girl. Now stroke between your legs, let us see you press your fingers inside, but don't come. I don't want you to come yet.”
