Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 54651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Her back against the wall, he raised her manacled wrists above her head and hung the chain over the hook. His heart gave a tug, along with his cock. She looked so pretty and defenseless, her luxuriant hair in a tumble around her face, her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her dress.
“Alana?”
Silence.
Then the sharp crack of his palm against her soft cheek.
Alana cried out.
“Alana?”
Nothing but her heavy breathing. A red mark appeared on her face where his palm had struck her. Again he slapped her, this time across the other cheek. Again and again he said her name, waiting for her reply, slapping her each time she failed to respond, until her face was bright red from the blows, her cheeks wet with tears. Yet still the stubborn girl remained silent.
Furious, Mark gave up. Lifting her dress high, he tucked it around her neck and shoulders. She looked ridiculous with her dress hiked up, her body naked but for the curled dark hair that covered her delicate mons.
Roughly, he grabbed her by the pubic hair, using it to pull her away from the wall. He fingered her cunt for several minutes, forcing her pussy to secrete its juices, despite her best efforts to resist him.
Slapping her thighs, he forced her legs farther apart. Again his strong fingers found her cunt and he slid two at once deep into her defenseless body. He felt the heat of those velvet walls and longed to thrust his rock-hard cock into her. But she didn’t deserve his cock. Not now. Not yet.
Mark continued to forcibly arouse his chained slave until she was moaning despite herself. Alana’s face was averted and her eyes were squeezed shut, but Mark knew from her wet pussy and her ragged breathing that he was getting to her. When her body began to move, her hips arching slightly toward his hand, he pulled away, calculatedly leaving the bound woman unsatisfied. She wouldn’t be coming for a while. She would have to earn her way into his good graces.
“Alana, listen to me,” he said quietly, standing back to admire her heaving breasts, the nipples suffused with blood so that they looked like ripe cherries. He held his fingers to his nose and inhaled her spicy-sweet fragrance. “You will stay on that wall. You will keep your chain on that hook, and you will keep your dress up on your shoulders. I’m going to work for a while. When I come back, if your arms are down, or your dress has fallen, you will be punished severely. If you try anything stupid like trying to get away, I’ll kill you. It’s that simple.”
Alana opened her eyes wide, fixing him with a terrified look, but still the wretched girl said nothing.
Turning on his heel, Mark left her alone, naked and chained to the wall.
She would learn what it was to suffer. He would see to that.
Mark returned to the living room an hour later, a bottle of water in his hand. Alana’s head was turned to the side, resting against her shoulder, her eyes closed. She didn’t seem to hear him come in. He was pleased to see her wrists were still slung over the picture hook, her dress still bunched around her shoulders. Perhaps progress was finally being made.
He set down the bottle on the end table by the couch and approached her. “Alana?” he said softly. He held his breath as he waited.
Slowly, she lifted her head and opened her eyes. “Yes, Sir,” she finally answered in a hoarse whisper.
Mark smiled broadly. “Good girl.” Gently, he lifted her bound wrists up and over the hook. Her arms fell heavily in front of her. They were icy to the touch. Smoothing down her dress, Mark scooped her into his arms and carried her to the couch. Settling with her in his lap, he took her lifeless arms between his large, strong hands and gently massaged the life back into her limbs.
“Thirsty,” she whispered huskily.
Mark carefully set her limp body on the couch and sat beside her, reaching for the bottle of water. He held it to her lips and she drank, hesitantly at first, then greedily. It was mid-afternoon and she had had nothing to eat or drink since the champagne the evening before, and, now that he thought about it, she’d barely eaten a thing since he’d picked her up.
He allowed her to finish the bottle. Then he stood and pulled off his T-shirt. He preened a moment in front of her, proud of his muscular physique, but Alana didn’t appear to notice. With a shrug, he sat beside her and unlocked the chain between her wrists so he could slip off her dress. Once she was stripped naked, he cradled her again in his arms, holding her body close to his.