Pretty Lies

by Kitty Thomas

  He’d weighed the dangers many times in his mind. Would it be better to release Annette and hope both of them were so grateful they kept their mouths shut, or keep things as they were? It didn’t matter which was a better strategy. There was no way he would ever release her.

  “Do you want me to let you go?” he asked.

  “Let me go where?”

  “Home.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “I asked a question. I also expect proper address.”

  “I’m here in trade for my sister, Master,” she said. As if that answered the question.

  The cream was beginning to kick in. She’d started to squirm the tiniest bit as if by doing so she could somehow make it stop. He knew perfectly well what he was doing, asking these questions right when the cream kicked in. He wanted to make her verbally affirm over and over that she wanted him. That she wanted to serve him. That she desperately needed to be his slave and his whore. The more she said it out loud, even if under the effects of the cream, the more she would believe in it. He needed her to believe in it.

  He’d learned a long time ago that saying things out loud made them more real. It was part of why it was so important that she address him as Master. Over and over that word had to fall out of her mouth every single day a hundred times or more a day until she truly saw herself fully as his property. Not just a hostage or prisoner or some exchange for her sister, but his absolute fuck toy.

  “I could have mercy on you and send you home right this minute. Do you want to put your clothes on and go home to your sister?”

  She whimpered as the cream came into its full powers, destroying any ability to reason she might otherwise possess.

  “I will make you an offer. You can put your clothes on right now and go home with your sister, or I can make you come harder than you’ve ever come before in your life. Do you want to come or do you want to go home?”

  Anton knelt on the carpet behind her and pulled her possessively toward him. He rained kisses down the side of her throat while he fondled her tits. “What do you want, slut?”

  Another whimper. An internal struggle. Finally a surrender. “I want to come, Master.”

  “Good girl.”

  No doubt she’d spent these few moments rationalizing everything. Maybe she thought he wasn’t offering real freedom—he wasn’t. Maybe she thought it was some trick to punish her—undecided. Or that she could convince him to let her go at another time when the powerful cream setting all her nerve endings on fire had worn off. But of course the next time he asked her, it would be with the cream, too. It would always be with the cream so she chose him over and over, no matter how wrong she knew it was.

  “I can give you so much pleasure. I can drive you insane with it. All you have to do is obey me, and you will be rewarded. You aren’t the first woman I’ve trained like this. I know you better than you know you. You need to surrender to me. Your sister is a convenient excuse. I bet you touched yourself after we met the other night in the club.”

  She stiffened at that. He knew it! Of course she’d touched herself after all the dirty things he’d said to her—and all the dirty promises she’d teased him with. Still, he wanted her admit it. “Didn’t you? No lies. Remember what happens to liars.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Yes, you touched yourself thinking of me?”

  She nodded.

  “Good girl.”

  “Master, please,” she whined.

  “Soon. I don’t like impatience.”

  Anton rose from the chair and picked up a thin leather collar with a silver ring off the bed. He put it around her throat. “You will only take this off to shower or swim and when I take you out of the house, Yes?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good.”

  He took a silver chain-link leash from the bed and linked it through the ring on her collar. “Come.”

  She got up and followed him outside onto the balcony. They had plenty of privacy out here, but doing this outside in broad daylight would make her feel exposed, watched. It was a bonus if Lindsay drove up or if Brian or Gabe or even Phyllis stepped outside and glanced back up at the house.

  He positioned her where he wanted her next to the railing. “Spread your legs, lean forward, and hold onto the top of the railing. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  Anton could chain her up for everything he wanted to do, but he felt training took better if they were made to submit. There was nothing sweeter than a woman obediently holding onto a bar or railing and taking her punishment. No restraints. Just will. His will to control. Her will to obey.

  He selected a long bamboo cane from the bed and returned outside to her. The bamboo had the perfect amount of flexibility and spring to it. It would sting and leave the most beautiful welts. He wasn’t an extreme sadist like Brian, but Anton liked to mark what was his.

  The best way to get a sub to like the cane was to make her associate it with arousal. He’d never had the benefit of this near-magical cream before, but if he got a girl excited before caning her every time, eventually, bringing the cane out created a Pavlovian reaction. She’d be wet and aroused and ready to be fucked before the bamboo even lashed her flesh.

  Without warning, he struck the back of her thighs. She cried out and looked back at him shocked—as if it were some betrayal.

  “It’s not a punishment, kiska. Say, Thank you, Master.”

  “T-thank you, Master.”

  He laid down a second perfect set of welts next to the first. She gasped. “Again.”

  “T-thank you, Master.”

  Three more came down across her ass, and each time he made her thank him for it.

  “Do you still want to come? Don’t lie to me.”

  “Y-yes, Master.”

  By this point tears streamed down her cheeks. Anton laid the cane on the table and came back to her. He ran his tongue over the marks he’d left as she quivered beneath him. “Mmmm, you taste like pineapples. This is how you should always taste for me.”

  He stood and moved so that his lips were next to her ear. “I’m going to fuck you now. But I’m not ready for you to come yet. If you come, I will know it, and I will make what you just experienced seem like an orgasm by comparison. Do you understand?”

  “Y-yes, Master.” She had an iron death grip on the railing.

  “Good girl.”

  She seemed so tuned into his every movement he was sure the sound of his zipper coming down must have been louder to her even than the cane slicing through the air before it made contact. She was exquisite warmth when he slid into her. She was so wet that it drove him to madness. She moaned and bucked against him as he rode her. He would never tire of fucking her.

  “Do. Not. Come,” he ground out.

  “Please, Master.”

  “No. Do it and regret it.”

  She stilled for a moment, getting control of herself, and then he began to move inside her again.

  “I will make you live for the thrill of pleasing me,” he practically growled at her. “The only thing I want you to think about right now is my cock and how much you want your body to please me. If you think about anything else, there will be consequences. I may not be able to read your mind, but I will know if you are lying. And God help you if you lie to me.”

  She let out a strangled whimper in response to this, pushing back against him as he fucked her. He eased slowly in and out of her. He wanted to drag it out as long as he could, and also because of the effect it had on her.

  Finally when he’d had enough build up, he drove into her so hard she gasped and cried out from the force of it. He held her close against him as he emptied himself inside her.

  Anton pulled out, zipped back up, and straightened his clothes.

  “You can let go of the railing now.”

  She let go, but she didn’t turn around. She was perfect. Maybe everything that had happened up to this moment was exactly right after all. Maybe she needed a bit of terror, a little
motivation to submit to him so sweetly and fully. Thinking back, it was always a little rough in the beginning with a sub. Why should he think it would be any different with a genuine slave? In fact, he should have expected more resistance. It worked in his favor that she seemed so attracted to him.

  But he was sure it wasn’t just attraction. This girl was a natural. He’d had experienced subs who often broke out of their role. They would joke during serious times or act like a brat in public venues and sometimes couldn’t follow the simplest instructions without complaint. But Annette didn’t break because there was no joke. It wasn’t a game. She was his absolutely. And she knew it.

  He’d somehow thought it would be harder to bring her to this place. Surely it should take more punishment, more wooing. More something. He’d forgotten how powerful helpless arousal was in breaking a girl. He’d been out of this game too long.

  “Master?” Her voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her.

  “Yes, kiska?”

  “Please will you let me come?”

  He spun her to face him and raised her chin to force her eyes to his. “What did you think about while I was fucking you?”

  “Your cock and pleasing you,” she said.

  He searched for the lie, but he didn’t find it. “Good girl.”

  Anton gripped the leash and led her back inside. He glanced at his watch. Only half an hour since he’d put the cream on her. Still a bit more time to play.

  “Lie down on your stomach and spread your arms and legs out over your head like a big X.”

  When she’d done as he requested he took a couple of spreader bars from the bed and cuffed her ankles in this spread-eagled position with one, and her wrists over her head in the same way with the other.

  “Do you remember this from the party?” He showed her a thin steel toy.

  She whimpered in response.

  “Do you remember where it goes? Answer.”

  “Y-yes, Master.”

  He lubed the toy and slid it slowly into her ass. “Relax, pet. You have to surrender completely to it if you want it to feel good.”

  She relaxed and after a few minutes she started to move with it.

  “Good girl. Are you ready to come?”

  “Yes, Master. Please.”

  Anton took another toy from the bed. It was a metal ball about the size of his palm. He twisted it across a seam that ran through the middle, and the ball began to vibrate.

  “Lift up.”

  She lifted her hips slightly off the bed, and he placed the vibrating ball under her and between her legs. Then he went back to sliding the other toy in and out of her ass. She pressed harder against the ball, grinding into it.

  “Please,” she whimpered. “Please please please.”

  “All right. You’ve suffered long enough. Come for me.”

  She let herself go then with a long, guttural moan, riding the vibrating ball until she couldn’t take any more pleasure. Anton took both toys away.

  He watched as she lay on the bed, completely spent. “Are you hungry?” He almost always fed a sub after playing with her, particularly if it had been a while since she’d eaten. It seemed to help ground them and bring them back to the normal world—not that any part of Annette’s world was normal. It would be soon enough. Anything repeated enough times could become normal.

  Even in his most intense 24/7 relationships, there had been many moments when he and his pet were just people, not defined by roles. That would never happen here. He made the law here, and he had all the power to enforce it. Yet even as he thought this, he knew deep down that if she obeyed him sweetly enough for a long enough time that she would have more power in his heart than she could ever know.

  “Come with me.” He helped her up and led her on the chain to the door.

  “What about clothes?”

  “What about them? If I want you naked, you will be naked. There is no one in the house who hasn’t seen you already.”

  It was a token protest at best—probably the last vestige of the classic female I don’t want to feel like a slut before capitulating to whatever he wanted. It seemed very important to women not to feel like sluts—maybe because they were afraid of being thrown away and abandoned. He wanted Annette to feel like whatever he told her to feel like. And slut was one of those things.

  He tugged on the leash again, and she followed him without another complaint. He stopped in the kitchen. Phyllis was inside finishing a raspberry glaze on some pastry or another she’d been baking most of the afternoon.

  “I need a submarine sandwich and a water in the game room.”

  The older woman seemed like she would give a smart retort, but then she noticed Annette. She wasn’t able to cover the shock on her face at seeing his girl nude with a collar and a leash.

  Phyllis turned back to him, glaring. “What do you want on it?”

  “Load it up with everything. Mayo, Meats, cheeses, lettuce, tomato, onions, olives, everything we’ve got. The works. Do you like vinegar on your subs, pet?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “And vinegar.” He’d asked that last part more to let Phyllis know it wasn’t for him in case she got some wild idea to spit in it or poison it.

  Anton tugged the leash and led Annette down the hallway to the game room. Gabe sat in one of the chairs watching Brian, who sat on the couch playing a video game.

  Brian wasn’t exactly playing according to the rules. He’d left normal game play and was just running people over with his car and then getting out and shooting them if they got up. Every cop in the game seemed to already be on his ass. By this point, there were three police helicopters and several tanks of military-garbed police shooting at Brian’s character.

  “I’m in god mode,” Brian said to explain why he wasn’t dead yet. “Hang on. I’m gonna steal this guy’s tank and run him over with it. That’s right. Cry like a little bitch!”

  Anton sat next to Brian on the sofa. “Kneel like I taught you, kiska,” he said.

  He turned his attention back to Brian. “Do you want to race?”

  “Same stakes?”

  “Same stakes.”

  They’d finished the first race when Phyllis walked in with Annette’s food. Brian slammed the one hundred dollar bill Anton had lost the last time back into his hand.

  “Put it on the ground next to her,” Anton said.

  Phyllis sat the plate and glass of water down on the ground. “You are a disgusting piece of shit for treating her this way. Do you know that?”

  “Maybe we should strip you down and punish you?” Brian said.

  Her bravery evaporated at the threat, and she rushed out of the room.

  ***

  When Phyllis had gone, Annette picked up one half of the submarine sandwich and took a bite, grateful to have a distraction. She knew they weren’t really paying attention to her, but she still felt watched.

  “How is it?” Anton asked.

  “I’ve never had black olives on a sandwich before.”

  “You’ve led a sheltered life. Do you like it?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He stroked her hair.

  “Another game?” Brian asked.

  “No, I want to hang on to my money for a while.”

  “We could play for something else.”

  “Such as?”

  “Her.”

  Annette tensed. After the previous night, she realized that not only would Anton play with other women, but he seemed inclined to pass her around, at least in a limited capacity. Brian was certainly attractive, but there was something about him that just made her skin crawl. He was the kind of man she was sure nobody was safe with.

  “You’re out of your mind,” Anton said. “No way in hell.”

  “I mean just to fuck, not permanently. Trust me, I don’t want to have to deal with a slave permanently. Sounds like hell.”

  “And if I win, what do I get?”

  “Two hundred?”

  “Not today.
Maybe some other time.”

  Brian shrugged and switched back to his previous game.

  Anton reached down and took the other sandwich half off her plate and took a bite. “Not bad,” he said, returning the rest of it to her.

  As Annette ate, she thought about her time upstairs with Anton. She was starting to wonder how much of this was about her sister and how much of it was about her. Oh, she wanted Janette safe and knew she had to keep Anton satisfied to do it, but why wasn’t this more of a trauma?

  Because she was a fucking human. And he was rich and hot and was paying for all her sister’s expenses and sparing both their lives when he could have just killed them both to keep things neat and tidy. And that accent. How many women could realistically resist this? Why did she want to be such a fucking martyr all the time? What was the harm in just… falling? Especially when it wasn’t like there was any realistic way out anyway.

  And besides, when she saw her sister—if she saw her sister—it would be so much easier if Janette could see she was really okay. If she’d already convinced herself, it would be that much easier to convince her sister.

  She felt so ashamed. But it wasn’t shame over what Anton was doing to her as much as it was shame that she was going along with it so easily. Could she picture a reality where Janette hadn’t been a pawn and she’d do this? No. She could never have just abandoned her sister without any financial support to run off with some guy for kinky sex games.

  And besides, she hadn’t thought she liked kinky sex games. She’d been sure this wasn’t her thing. It had all been a lie that night at the club… hadn’t it? But the more he touched her, and the more he commanded her, the more she just kind of … fell into it.

  It seemed impossible to her that only a few nights ago Anton had asked what she would do when she started to crave this enslavement. No matter how beautiful he was, she was never going to crave being his property or toy. And yet, already… here she was… craving.

  The door opened, and Lindsay walked in. He glanced briefly at Annette. “This much success already?”