Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Oh, god,” she finally cried. “Please, Sir! May I come, Sir?”
Abruptly, he lifted his head to see her face. Her beseeching eyes met his. He let his lips lift into a smile as his eyes hooded with power and sadistic pleasure.
“No. You may not.”
Chapter 7
Ellen let her head fall back against the bench as she struggled to catch her breath and contain her sexual frustration. With the absence of his warm, sensual mouth against her sex, the pain of the intensive cropping consumed her. Her cunt was on fire and her muscles trembled with fatigue.
Mercifully, Master Damon said, “You may lower your legs.”
She managed to bring them together and bend them, her feet finding purchase on the knee rests on either side of the bench. Her sex ached with the need for release. At the same time, exhaustion swept over her like a wave, her body going limp.
Then strong arms were sliding beneath her back and knees. Master Damon lifted her as if she weighed nothing. As the endorphin-induced high from the intensive scene ebbed away, she felt herself crashing. She hung like a rag doll in his arms, her head lolling back, eyes closed, too spent to move as he carried her from the room.
She felt the give of a mattress as he lay her on the bed. The cool, silky quilt felt good against her heated skin. “Rest there while I get the bath going,” he said.
Ellen was too exhausted even to respond. She lay in a stupor, vaguely aware of the sound of running water. She was drifting on the edge of a dream when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Bath’s ready. Come into the bathroom.”
Ellen’s eyes sprang open. Master Damon loomed over her. She didn’t want to move. Just let me rest, she almost whined aloud. Shocked at her disobedience, even if just in her own head, she forced herself upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
She swayed as she got to her feet. Damon placed a firm hand on the back of her neck, his touch sending a fizzy jolt of electricity over her skin as he steadied her.
The bathroom was small but well organized. It contained a toilet, a free-standing sink and a bathtub with a handheld shower head, the curtain pushed aside. There was also what looked like a linen closet, its folding doors closed. Steam rose from the bath water, carrying with it the soothing, nutty scent of jojoba and coconut oil. Ellen couldn’t wait to climb in.
“Do you need to pee?” Master Damon asked.
His words awoke her bladder, which was in fact uncomfortably full. “Yes, Sir.”
“I do, too,” he said, his eyes hooding. “Go kneel by the toilet, lift the seat and cup your hands over the bowl. I’m going to piss in your hands. Once I’m done, you may use the toilet.”
Ellen stood rooted to the spot as she struggled to process his command. He’d warned her he might do this very thing. But somehow, she’d assumed, at least on their first day, that he wouldn’t immediately go to what would have been described as a hard limit, if she’d been permitted any.
Aware this was a test of her obedience as much as anything, Ellen forced herself to crouch by the side of the toilet. Pulse beating in her throat, she cupped her hands, her head bowed.
Master Damon’s jean-clad legs appeared beside her. He unzipped his fly and shifted, presumably taking out his cock. Ellen pressed her lips together, wincing with barely suppressed dread of what was to come.
A moment later, a hot stream of urine filled the bowl of her hands. It took every ounce of control not to pull away and leap up in disgust. At the same time, a dark, erotic humiliation swept through her, heating her blood and making her clit throb.
Finally, he flicked the last few drops and tucked himself away. Ellen stared down at the pungent liquid still cupped in her trembling hands, silently begging him to release her.
He placed a hand on her head, a chuckle in his voice as he said, “There, now. That wasn’t so bad, was it, slave?”
Was the question rhetorical? Or did he really expect an answer? Before she could decide, he added, “Your turn. Empty your hands and then sit on the pot. I’ll even lower the seat for you.”
Face on fire, Ellen rose to her feet as Master Damon stepped away. She had no idea what to do with her dripping hands as she sat on the toilet. To her relief, Master Damon handed her a wad of toilet paper, allowing her to at least wipe away the worst of it.
“Spread your legs wide so I can see what you’re doing,” he commanded.
It took several long seconds before her body relaxed enough to allow her to pee. Fortunately, training at The Enclave had somewhat inured her to relieving herself in front of others. Even so, she couldn’t stop the continuing blush as Master Damon crouched in front of her, his head tilted as he watched her pee.