Page 27 of Preferential Treatment

It was easy enough to follow the link Mikhail sent her, download the app onto her battered old tablet, then login with the password he gave her. When she looked back at her phone, Mikhail was kneeling again, a black silicone ring encircling the base of his shaft and balls.

“I’m going to test it.” The controls had a slide to adjust the vibration intensity, and then a button that could be held down for however long she wanted the vibration to go. She set the slider on the low end and held the button down for a second.

Mikhail jerked, his cock twitching, and let out a harsh breath.

“It’s working?” Kate asked, clenching her thighs together as delicious arousal built in her core.

“Yes, knyazhna,” he said gruffly. “It’s working.”

“Alright. I’m going to ask you some questions. For each one you answer incorrectly, the length and the intensity of the vibration will increase. If you come before I say you can, I will make you lick your mess up. Understand?”

Mikhail’s breathing roughened. “Yes, knyazhna.”

“Good boy. First question—what’s my middle name?”

“Rose.”

Kate blinked. She hadn’t expected him to know. “Er… yes. What’s your middle name?” She asked mostly out of curiosity since she had no way of knowing if his answer was correct.

“I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a middle name?”

“Russians don’t have middle names like Westerners do, with another given name. We have a first name, otchestvo, and surname.”

“What’s an otchestvo?” Kate asked, trying to pronounce the Russian word how he had.

“A name taken from the father’s name. If your father’s name is Ivan, your otchestvo will be Ivanovich or Ivanovna, depending on if you are a man or a woman.”

“And what’s your otchestvo?”

His gaze flattened. He didn’t immediately answer. If this were a different question, she’d be giving him a buzz from the cockring. But she didn’t feel right coercing personal information from him.

“Give me a color, Mikhail.”

His gaze flickered as he looked away then back at her. “Green,” he finally answered.

Relieved, she pressed the button down. Mikhail stiffened, bowing over and groaning. She held it for a count of three, then released it. “I asked you a question. What’s your otchestvo?”

“I don’t have one,” he finally answered, his voice a low growl.

The otchestvo came from a person’s father’s name, and Mikhail didn’t have one. Kate took that in for a second, not sure how to respond. The proud, wholesome proletariat father she’d imagined for him vanished in a puff of smoke.

Mikhail stared at her, expression shuttered, dark eyes like two cold stones.

“Alright,” she said, forcing herself to slip back into the sultry domme persona. “Next question: what is my shoe size?”

Mikhail’s brows lifted, expression thawing. After a moment’s hesitation, he guessed, “Six?”

Kate laughed. “You don’t know how women’s shoe sizes work, do you? I’m five-foot-ten. I’d fall over if I had size six feet.” She pushed the vibration intensity up a notch and laid on the button, watching with satisfaction as Mikhail grunted and doubled over again, breathing raggedly while she held the vibration for a count of five.

When she released him, he remained doubled over, panting.

“Proper posture,” Kate said sharply.

He straightened immediately, eyes filled once more with dark heat, thick cock straining desperately upward.

“Next question: what’s my favorite color?”

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