Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Keep telling yourself that.
He ignored the irritating internal voice.
He scowled when he saw she’d ruled out needle and blood play. But she hadn’t checked off the box for knife play, he was pleased to see. He could already envision several diabolical scenarios that would press her submissive envelope to its very edges.
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he came over to Hannah. “I’ve reviewed your limits and will abide by them, for now.” As her eyes widened, he added, “Meaning we can always revisit them as you progress in your training.”
She looked so nervous kneeling there, her lower lip caught in her teeth, her eyes wide and frightened. Was she already regretting what she’d signed up for?
Though he didn’t want to, Mason forced himself to take a mental step back. While he very much wanted to train Hannah for reasons he hadn’t entirely admitted to himself, he did not want to lead her kicking and screaming into anything.
Moving to her, he crouched in front of her and stroked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Hannah,” he said gently. “It’s not too late to change your mind about this. While I believe you have real potential as a slave girl, training only works if you’re one hundred percent on board. If you’re having second thoughts, there’s no shame in that. And no recriminations. You can go back to your BDSM-lite contract, and we can forget about this whole idea.”
He forced his expression to remain neutral and calm as he waited for her response. He could barely admit to himself just how much he wanted to train this woman. And not just because she had potential. He wanted to be the one to bring out that potential. He wanted to claim Hannah, even if only for a few days.
“No,” she finally said, her voice husky. “I’m not backing out. I want to give this a try. I’ve waited my whole life to experience this. I’m not going to blow it now.”
Mason couldn’t stop the wide grin that split his face. “Good girl. That’s the spirit.” Getting to his feet, he rubbed his hands together. “Let’s go over a few ground rules. Number one—slave girls, even those in training—especially those in training, are to be naked at all times. Take off that silly dress and then kneel up in present position.”
Hannah’s mouth fell open. For a second, he thought she was actually going to protest. Where was that resolve she’d displayed only a moment before? But then she closed her mouth and reached for the hem of her dress. Lifting up slightly on her haunches, she pulled the dress over her head and tossed it aside. Swallowing visibly, she spread her knees a couple of inches apart and placed her hands on her thighs, palms up.
Crouching in front of her, he said, “Spread your knees wider like a proper Enclave slave and straighten your posture. Go on. Don’t make me ask twice.”
Looking away, she did as she was told. He tilted his head, letting his eyes move slowly over her body, lingering at her smooth cunt. Color was seeping over her chest and throat and splashing onto her cheeks. She really needed to get over her ridiculous shyness at being naked. He would be sure to work on that with her.
No penetrative sex didn’t mean he couldn’t touch her body as he wished, and even bring her to orgasm if it pleased him to do so. He considered cupping her cunt, feeling its heat, slipping a finger inside her wetness. But she looked so fucking nervous that he decided to cut her a break—for the moment.
“Better,” he said, getting back to his feet. “Rule two—for your remaining days at The Enclave, you will sleep up here with me. You can bring up your things after lunch.”
“What?” Hannah blurted. “You want me to sleep here? With you?”
Ignoring her disrespectful tone, not to mention his irritation that she seemed so freaked out at the prospect, Mason waited a beat for Hannah to at least add the honorific. But she just kept staring at him, mouth hanging open.
Leaning down, he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her upright. Wheeling her toward the back wall, he placed a hand on the back of her neck and frogmarched her toward the corner, ignoring her spluttering cries.
His hand still on her neck, he held her in place, her face pressed into the corner. “This is the timeout corner for naughty submissives. Not the most auspicious start to your one-on-one training, but that’s on you. Let that be the last time you fail to treat me, or any Dom here, with the proper respect. You will address me as Master Mason or Sir, and not only during an active session, but 24/7. Got that?”
“Yes, Sir,” she muttered, her face still pressed against the wall.