She stops mid-sentence when I leap forward, yanking at the rope binding her wrists. My motions evoke a pinched shriek from her throat and she whimpers when I start tugging at the knots, loosening them with such quick movements that she's left stunned after her hands are freed. She rubs at her tender wrists, while I wind the rope up in my hand. I step closer and lean down to her, noticing another difference between her and Lailah.
She's much shorter.
"You go and take that fucking shower. Right. Now." My words are hissed with such force that she cowers as if she's being beaten. "Or I'll do it for you."
A gasp flies from her lips at my last words.
"That's right. I will rip that dress off you, and I'll soap and scrub every last inch of that tight little body of yours," I threaten. "Would you prefer that?"
She shakes her head violently as she backs away from me. I don't know what she's so shy about anyway. She's pretty much naked already, the dress hanging loosely around her hips and her small tits exposed. Her nipples are hard and taut, most likely from the cold—or the pinching they endured earlier.
I want to believe that it could be the latter.
She averts her eyes, her attention following the motion as she slowly pulls her dress down over her hips until it drops to the floor, pooling around her naked feet. There's a questioning look as she stands before me in nothing but her plain, black panties with no lace or details to lure a man's gaze.
I roll my eyes impatiently at her hesitation. I’m about to push her to continue, but with a deep sigh, she hooks her fingers under the dark fabric, moving in slow motion to free herself from that last barrier of protection.
My cock twitches at the sight of her bare pussy lips, locking onto the seducing sight of her exposed core. She frowns at me and once again tries to hide her nakedness by placing her hand on her mound.
"Stop being ridiculous," I tell her, reveling in the sight of her stumbling backward when I approach her in one deliberate step. She mewls when I reach for her wrists with both hands, yanking them up and joining them above her head. Her dainty arms are so slim that I can hold them in place with one hand easily, while I use the other to reach down to her middle.
"No, please."
I ignore her plea, pressing my palm against the soft skin right below her belly button. She squirms and tries to turn herself out of my grip, only provoking the opposite reaction from me. My grip on her tightens.
Loathing flares in her eyes when she looks up at me. Sweet, delicious hate. It reminds me so much of the way Lailah used to look at me when we first started our training.
I pull her closer, bending down as I move my face close to hers. The blush on her cheeks tells me that she's not immune to the effect I tend to have on women. She feels violated just as much as she's captivated.
"Don't make such a fuss when we both know you don't hate this," I snarl in a low voice. "You may not understand what this is, but I can tell you this much: it's best for you to do as I tell you. Best and least painful."
Fear washes across her face, but only for a split second before her expression converts into a hateful glare, her eyes narrowing to form a deep crease between her eyebrows.
Her demeanor surprises me, but not as much as the words that follow do.
"Oh, I know what this is," she whispers, a vicious tone lacing her voice. "This is sick and twisted."
She pauses, licking her lower lip.
"I know, because I have seen it before."