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)
It took her a while to realise I had backed off entirely. She strained to shoot a glance over her shoulder but barely made it, eyes frantic as they searched for me in the room. I left her another few minutes dangling in the silence before I even muttered a sound.
“The show isn’t due to start yet,” I told her. “This is your position until then.”
“But I…” she began. “But I can’t… please, sir…”
Such a sorry little concern as her body swayed in the chain grip. She’d have significantly worse concerns before she found solid ground again.
“Not another word,” I said. “Your position is whatever I tell you it is until whenever I’ve decided you’ve had enough.”
“Yes, sir,” she managed, but her voice was raspy.
I loved the sound of the chains clinking as she swayed and struggled. She was trying to stay still, but her tiptoes weren’t nearly stable enough. Her body was a delight to watch, twisting and turning as she held back the complaints. Her stockings were low on her thighs and her bruises were prominent enough to make my mouth water. I could picture the warmth of her tight little cunt clenching and wetting the scrap of lace panties. I’d have loved a taste. To bury my tongue in that slit of hers while she flailed and fumbled.
I’d also love to spank that slit hard enough to make her cry out loud. To shove my hand into that pretty cunt until she was a vice around my knuckles, shaking at the pressure.
It would come.
All of it would come.
Her resolve was impressive. She strained as much in silence as she could manage, seemingly determined to do what she was told, even though her shoulders and wrists must be aching like sin. Her chest was heaving but she was trying to breathe quietly, quiet hisses in and out as her toes still reached out for purchase on the floor.
When it was time to fire up the cameras, I lowered the shackles just an inch. It was enough that she cried out in relief.
“Thank you, sir. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The inch didn’t give her absolute stability, just a scrap of steadiness on her legs. It was enough that she smiled as I approached her front and announced the cameras would be live in just a few seconds. She nodded. Took a deep breath. Looked down at her bare tits with perky little nipples as though she should fear for her modesty somehow.
Her innocence scorched in the pit of me.
It wasn’t just lust. Wasn’t just the urge to defile her with every scrap of my being and turn her into every bit the submissive little slut she had the makings of becoming.
It was more than that.
Affection.
It was fucking affection.
I felt something for her. Some actual fucking emotion.
Bullshit, I told myself.
It was bullshit.
My eyes glowered at hers, but hers were wide and still fucking grateful.
And then it was on us. The live broadcast. Eyes upon eyes of horny cunts tuning in for a glimpse of this pretty little thing suffering at my hands.
They were clammy, my hands. Actually fucking clammy as I made my way to the rack of implements.
“Day two,” I announced, partly to her but mainly to them. “Day two is always a challenge for sweet little girls.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and I knew her eyes were on the cameras in front of her like the good girl I’d insisted she’d be.
I didn’t want them on the cameras. I didn’t want them anywhere but fixed on me.
“Tell me,” I said, and stepped up close behind her with a heavy flogger in my hands. I let her feel the leather on her bare thigh and she shuddered. “Tell me how wet that pouty little cunt of yours is this evening.”
I knew she’d blush. I could picture the bloom on her pretty cheeks without having to see her face.
“I’m… I’m wet, sir…” she managed.
“And why is that?”
“I’m, um…” she started. “I’m… I want it, sir…”
“Want what?”
She paused. Struggled. That’s when I used the opportunity to slap the flogger up at her horny little slit and get her motivated.
It worked. The scrap of lacy panties did nothing whatsoever to ease the bite of the leather.
“I want it, sir… please… I want the pain… I want to be good… I want you, sir. I want you.”
It wasn’t the answer I was expecting. Not under show conditions. I didn’t expect her to announce that it was me she wanted as early as day two.
Even as I was reeling with the strength in her words she spoke them again.
“Please, sir, please! I want you. I want whatever you have to give me!”
I daren’t look at the wall of cameras in front of us. I daren’t risk the onlookers seeing the surprise in my eyes. The want in my eyes. The same urges for her as she was claiming for me.