Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“You think this is made up enough, sir?” I asked, and gestured to my body.
I knew his low laugh was coming before it sounded. How I loved the way his lip curled up along with the tone. “I think you’re plenty made up this evening, Miss Emmerson. I have a feeling the clients are going to appreciate our show very much.”
It was strange to realise how much I hoped so.
How much I wanted to perform well for the cameras and the seedy world watching on. How much I wanted to take whatever was given with the hunger of someone truly desperate to please their audience.
Still, that wasn’t it. Not even close.
It didn’t even come anywhere near close to how much I wanted to perform well for him.
My master.
Because that was the dawning truth of it. Not just in words, or signed agreements, or me telling myself over and over that it was really the case from here on in.
It was more than that. So much more than that.
I felt it in my body. In my thoughts. In my very soul.
Brandon Grant, the gorgeous monster in front of me, was most definitely my master.
“Let’s go,” my master said, and gestured to the door.
Chapter Nineteen
Brandon
My plan was all thought out. Purposeful in its intent, even if it felt like shit down in the core of me.
It did feel like shit down in the core of me. If I was totally honest with myself, and holy fuck how I was trying to avoid it, I’d have admitted I wanted nothing in front of the cameras that evening. Most likely nothing in front of the cameras any evening.
I wanted her.
I wanted to push her body to its limits for nothing other than my own pleasure, without giving a fuck for any of the asshole cunts looking on with dicks in hand.
No.
That wasn’t strictly true. I wanted to push her body to its limits for something more than my own pleasure.
I wanted to push her body to its limits for her pleasure.
I wanted to hear her come with the strength of a girl at a loss to her bodily sensations. With the strength of a girl who couldn’t contain herself. Who didn’t want to contain herself. Who wanted my touch with a desire that equalled my own.
But that wasn’t my plan. Wasn’t even close. It wasn’t the structure I’d been imprinting on my brain all afternoon.
My intent was well and clear.
I’d use the girl as the doll I’d signed up to use. I’d use and abuse her for the onlookers, aiming for as many bids as possible to come piling in in addition to those I’d already clicked yes on.
My head was firm and clear as I opened the bedroom door and gestured her out onto the landing. The room ahead was made up ready for the show, with the array of implements lined up for clear viewing.
She’d see them soon enough, and know I hadn’t been talking lightly when I instructed her to have a day of rest. She was surprisingly calm as she stepped close to my side and we made our way along the landing up to the webcam room. She didn’t flinch as I opened the second door and guided her inside, stepping in easily, her eyes feasting around the setup like a kid in a very scary sweet shop.
There were shackles hanging from the ceiling with strong leather cuffs ready for her wrists. There were chains and cuffs snaking across the floor to rest underneath, all prepared to stretch her limbs wide and render her powerless.
I didn’t ask her if she was ready, simply took one of the cuffs in my hand and waited for her to join me in position. She didn’t need any further prompting, just stepped on up and offered me her wrist without a hint of questioning. Her breaths were shallow but regular as I buckled her wrist in and took hold of the other. I noticed her legs were shaking as I dropped to my knees and buckled her ankles up tight, but said nothing.
She’d soon be shaking a damned sight worse.
I was out of her eyeline when I retreated and began to hoist the shackles. They moved up slowly, taking her arms above her head and stretching them tight and spread. I kept going until she was on tiptoes, limbs taut, then pulled the ankle chains tight until she let out a moan.
The girl was quite a sight to behold as she struggled for position. Her thighs were spread and straining, her arms taking the bulk of her weight as she struggled for stability.
There would be no stability for the girl in this space. Not tonight.
She cried out a little as I moved close behind her and reached my hands around to tug down her babydoll at the front. I hoped she felt strangely exposed under the spotlights. I hoped she felt vulnerable, weak to my will. I hoped her heart was in her throat as she fought back the nerves.