Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I was very close to breaking the rules and begging. I was so close. The only thing that kept my open lips silent was the threat of the cock gag on top of everything else. Instead I whined plaintively in my throat, my voice rising and falling with the rise and fall of each forced climax. I sounded like an animal. I felt like an animal, reduced to the ungoverned physical operation of my body. I tried to arch my pelvis to get my clit some relief, but it was only momentary, and then the sensation was there again.
Oh, please, oh, please...
At last I felt his thrusts quicken, felt his organ pump ejaculate inside me. At last, oh God, thank you. He stepped back, his cock slipping out of me after stuffing me to the hilt. He walked around and undid the chopstick clamps, and twisted my nipples between his fingertips as sensation came roaring back. I waited—mouth open—for him to switch off the vibrator, but he didn’t. He stared at me, and I stared back at him as I was required to.
Shit, oh shit. I can’t. You asshole. I hate you. I love you. How can you do this to me?
He was making a point. He owned me. He used me however he liked. He reduced me to an animal when he felt like it, and let me be human again only on his schedule. I got it. He made me squirm and jerk through three more painful, unwanted orgasms before he finally switched off the satanic wand.
“You can close your mouth now,” he said as he undid my bindings. “But never forget who that mouth belongs to.”
I gave him a baleful look. It wasn’t the slavey kind of look he probably wanted. Once he untied my arms, he steered me over to the cage, and I thought, well, I probably deserve this for looking at my Master that way. I crawled inside and curled in a ball.
My clit was swollen and sensitive, and my ass was still impaled by the massive butt plug. I curled my arms over my sore breasts and lay on my side, wishing the cage had a pillow or a padded cushion or something. Price was always mean to me in this dungeon, but today he’d been really mean and I was having trouble accepting my lot. Slave, thing, toy, holes to fuck. His to abuse. He was a sadist. He’d warned me.
Tears trickled down my cheeks as he moved about in the harsh light, putting the dungeon back to rights. I hated the way he lit everything, all my pain and humiliations showcased to a ridiculous degree. I wanted to hide in the darkness. I heard his footsteps when he returned to the cage, sensed him standing right beside it, but I didn’t turn to him the way I was supposed to.
“Look at me,” he said in a sharp voice. “Don’t act like a fucking brat, Chere, or we’ll start over with orgasm number one.”
I sighed and turned to look up at him through the bars.
“I wasn’t hard on you today because you talked to Cantor,” he said. “I was hard on you to remind you that you’re mine.”
Duh. We both knew that. I didn’t know why he still felt threatened by Cantor. Nothing had happened between us. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. Why won’t you believe that?
“Martin Cantor is a player,” he said. “He wouldn’t have known what to do with you. He couldn’t have made you happy.”
And you do? I thought, shifting on my sore ass. Frustration bubbled over inside me, so I broke my speech restriction and blurted out, “Why are you so jealous?”
He kicked the cage, an immediate, sharp reprisal that made me jump. I huddled back against the bars but there was no more kicking, just a trip to his chests of torture implements. He returned with the terrible, huge, plastic cock gag in his hands.
I shook my head, for all the good it did me. He opened the door and reached in, and dragged me to him by the O-ring on my collar. I shut my lips against the thick shaft and earned a slap on the cheek for it. I opened and swallowed as he forced the gag in. It distended my jaw and compressed my tongue, and made me feel very, very sorry that I’d poked him when he was already in a bad mood.
“No talking in the dungeon,” he said as he secured the gag’s straps behind my head. “You know the rules. Fucking follow them.”
I glared at his chin. Yes, I know the rules. I also know you’re fucking jealous and possessive and you don’t trust me any farther than you can throw me, and it’s starting to make me fucking sick. I submitted to everything he required of me, even this choking, humiliating cock gag. He might give me a little trust in return.