Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
She raises her hand from the page, her fingers moving to her lips as she reads. After an impossibly long few minutes, she closes the journal and puts it back in its place on the shelf, licking her lips, then finally turns to look at me.
Her eyes lift to mine, her face glowing.
“I know you want this. You’ll be my most cherished treasure. For as long as I live, and for as long as you live.” I step back and lift my arms open wide. “It’s all yours now, baby girl. They’ve never touched or been seen by any other woman and they never will. No one but you gets to see this part of my life.”
She turns to face me, and her thighs squeeze together.
“You’re wet. Aren’t you?”
She blushes a deeper shade of perfect pink and my cock is relentlessly pounding out her name in Morse code behind my zipper.
I see the sheen of her arousal wet her inner thighs and my mouth waters, remembering the way she felt on my tongue.
“Is there something you’d like to say?”
“Yes. Is it time?” Her twinkling, lust-filled eyes flick to where my cock is clearly showing his own need under my trousers.
I smile at her eagerness. “I wish it was. But, no, not yet.”
Her chin lifts, and a flash of annoyance and deprivation flashes on her face. She's got a temper.
“Then I’d like to get dressed,” she snaps, the tone in her voice not one I will tolerate.
“No.” The one word falls between us in the silence, and her eyes widen. Her cheeks flame and I realize it’s not funny anymore. That turns her on too.
My refusal.
“I’m in charge of when you wear panties, when you get to wear clothes, when you get to taste my cock, and when you get to feel it inside you. Among a multitude of other things that we will go over as time goes on. I’m a man who likes to be in charge, baby. A man that will give you rules, dole out praise and punishment. This is no game or joke for me. It’s who I am, and who you will be with me.”
She moans as I take her wrist, opening the door on the cage.
“Get in.”
“What? Why?”
“If I have to repeat myself again, you will earn another punishment. Get. In.”
Watching her lower herself and twist and turn to sit inside the golden bars gives me more pleasure than is probably legal.
She crosses her arms, pulling her legs underneath her on the soft pillows as I close the door and snap the combination lock shut.
“Be good.” I turn and leave her there, stifling the low chuckle that catches in my throat.
I exit the closet and give her a few minutes to think things over.
I hear her mumbling to herself as I wait outside the door, trying to control my amusement. I look at my watch, counting down another ten seconds, then return to the door, my arms crossed as I give her a stern glare.
“Why are you in the cage?” I ask, sucking in on my cheeks to keep from grinning.
“Because you are a big, gigantic poopy head?”
I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure.
“Calling me names is probably not in your best interest. Now answer the question. Why are you in the cage?”
“Ironically,” she starts, a hint of sass in her voice, “for making you repeat yourself.”
“I told you there would be rules. Punishments. You are mine now, if I want you in the cage, I’ll put you in the cage. To please me or to punish you or both. We clear?”
She squints and presses her lips together before answering. “Yes, Daddy. We are clear.”
“Good girl.”
I work the lock, open the door and help her stand before walking us back into the bedroom and through another unlocked door. One side of the massive second walk-in closet is lined with my suits on mechanical rods, panel-controlled drawers and shoe racks. And the other side, I’ve organized for her.
I ogle her ass when she stops, her eyes on the hanging clothes. There’s dresses from sweet to sultry. Jeans, skirts, sweaters and even a couple pair of overalls take up a few of the shelves and hanging rods. Along another wall are racks of shoes from Converse Chucks to Mary Jane’s to stilettos.
“I guessed at your sizes for now. It’s not as much as I’d like to have had for you today, but it was as much as the stores could deliver in the last few hours.”
“What is all this?”
“This is yours.”
“Mine?” Her eyes are wide as saucers.
“Yes. And space for you to have more. Through the bedroom, is a big master bath. I have everything you should need. Shampoo, conditioners, all sorts of soaps, toothbrush, toothpaste, even pads.”
The memory of what I did to her pad in her desk drawer makes me realize how crazy she makes me. “I did all that shopping myself.” Her pouty lips part and I pop my finger between them, pulling it out and sucking it clean. “I missed your mouth.”