Unbound (The Dominator #3) Read Online D.D. Prince

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Dominator Series by D.D. Prince
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
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My eyes met his. His voice was so sinister, so angry. He was pissed off, serious. Not only was I wired for sound for the federal agents to listen but we were being filmed by the Kruna cameras, too. And he was dead serious. My husband was in Master mode and ordering me to whip Cleo with the scarlet red suede dragon’s tail whip that was in my hand. I had to obey him.

She was staring at me, unsure, horror in her eyes. She was showing the horror and that wouldn’t do. I moved in, close to her, and put my arm around her and my lips to her ear,

“Be my good girl. Do what your Master tells you to do and not only will you be rewarded here by giving this bitch a punishment, but I’ll reward you as well. Do it.”

I was frozen, paralyzed.

“What is it?” he demanded, backing up. “Do you not think she deserves a punishment?” He crossed his arms across his chest.

“I… I just don’t know if I’m the one who should give it, Master.”

“Do you want me to do it?” He took his blazer off and rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows.

Did I?

No. Even if Cleo did deserve it, he didn’t need that black mark on his soul. I wouldn’t make him endure that. She’d wronged me and he wanted me to be the one to punish her. Maybe he thought it would help me. Part of my therapy. I didn’t think it would help. I was already feeling like I was coming unglued, barely managing my X to Y pattern.

He took the whip from my hand and moved toward Cleo.

“No, M-master. I can do it.”

He handed it back, a small smile on his face but that smile did not touch his eyes. And then he looked deep into my eyes and the expression he gave me told me I wasn’t doing a very good job here. I needed to do better.

I had to obey him. I had to be 100% Felicia.

“Do you understand why you’re being punished, bitch?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said softly, seeming like she didn’t give a shit.

“Tell me why you’re being punished.”

“For disrespecting you, Sir. I apologize.”

She didn’t look sorry.

“And for disrespecting my wife.”

“Yes, Sir. My apologies for disrespecting your wife.”

The way she said wife was like it was a foul word.

“Does she seem sorry enough, beautiful, precious wife? Should we skip the punishment?” he asked me.

I opened my mouth but my voice failed me.

“Answer me truthfully or you’ll get a punishment, too, my baby. And not one of those ones you like.”

“She doesn’t seem sorry, Master. But, I think we should sk---”

“Whip her. We’re not skipping,” he cut me off.

I was frozen.

“Now.” The authority in his voice gave me no choice but to comply. “And don’t just whip her. I want you to break her.”

I lashed out and caught her thigh, leaving a red mark.

She barely flinched. I looked at her face. Her face was like stone, but her eyes were filled with hate.

She was enthralled with Donavan Frost? All the time she’d supposedly spent with him before me would mean she could take the pain of a whipping. My attempts to whip her were probably laughable to her.

He couldn’t come unless he was hurting someone while he came and while the whip wasn’t his favorite with me, he used it on her a lot, according to Kruna lore. She could withstand a whole lot more than my sad attempts. I’d heard that he’d been credited with toughening her up substantially when he was first promoted to the role Gan Chen now had. No way would I be able to break her.

“Again,” Dare ordered.

I did it again and caught her stomach. She grunted in a way that Dare might think was pain but I knew that grunt. She thought I was a joke.

A bright red mark was left behind.

“How do you feel about the things she did to you, baby?”

“I…” I was having trouble forming a coherent sentence in my brain, never mind on my tongue.

“Tell her!” Dare demanded, anger in his voice.

“I hated it. She was horrible.”

“What did she do?”

“She screamed in our faces, she beat us, humiliated us. And worse.”

“Wasn’t that just her job?” he asked. “Strike her again.”

I pulled my right fist up to my left shoulder and then thrust the whip at her and it was harder this time, leaving a bigger mark across her hip. She was holding her breath, gritting her bared teeth, still looking at me like I was sludge beneath her feet.

God, I hated her. She was a horrible bitch. She didn’t need to be that mean. Other trainers weren’t that mean after breaking a slave. Once you were broken it just wasn’t a necessity.

And most of them hadn’t previously been a slave, like Cleo. Her being a former slave should’ve meant that she’d be a trainer who tried to do better. We were broken, why did she need to keep pushing us lower and lower into the gutter?


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