Page 67 of His Custody

“You know I’m not mad about this, yes?”

He shook her head gently and she wanted to cry. “But—”

“You’re not mine when you’re gone. Not the way you are when you’re here. You can do whatever you like and you’ll never be in trouble. That doesn’t mean I won’t be here if you need me—all you have to do is call, I’m not reneging on my promise. I’m holding you loosely, not not holding you at all. I wasn’t going to punish you.” “Wasn’t going to” was not the same as “am not going to,” and her heart swelled. “But it sounds like you feel awfully guilty about this. Like you’ve been a naughty girl.”

His words slowed down and softened to that hypnotic rhythm that deepened her pliancy, communicated to her body,You’re going to get a beating, so soften up to take it.

“Yes, Master.”

“You’re getting fed first.”

***

When she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped herself up in the clean fluffy towel that smelled like home. That was one of the myriad things about school she hated. It smelled wrong. But here, she could dip her head and inhale and everything seemed right with the world. She wished it was Jasper toweling her off, but the smell would have to be enough.

Heading into the walk-through closet, she knew there’d be a dress hanging there to wear. He’d said something about it when she first arrived but—holy shit.

He must have gotten this after she’d come home. The gown was a piece of art. She reached out a hand to take the fabric between her fingers and... Oh, yes. It was leather. The thinnest, finest, most supple leather she’d ever touched. Black and softly shining. God, if she’d only had this for prom. A lighter’s dream come true. That’s what Jasper had called her, and sometimes still did when he was teasing her: a lighter.

The bodice was a halter, the leather gathered into a pretty pleat at the... Jesus, what was he trying to do to her? It could only be called a collar. She’d be wearing a fucking collar to this thing. And the skirt was short in the center and surrounded by layer over cascading layer of eyelet leather falling to the floor. Looking at it,smellingit, made her high. She was still fingering the leather when there was a knock at the door and she foolishly hoped it would be Jasper so she could fling herself against him and beg him to take her, take her please, before they had to brave the cameras and the crowds.

But it was Ada, bearing a small bag from a department store, who bundled her into the bathroom where Keyne could relax while the older woman worked her magic. A couple of hours later when she opened her eyes, it was to a stranger in the mirror. A punk rock princess blinked back at her: hair teased sky high, dark-lined eyes giving way to a startlingly pink mouth that matched the streak in her hair and the color on her nails.

How much Jas loved her made her ache.If you want to be rock and roll, you can be rock and roll. I’ll make you the best badass there ever was.He hadn’t tried to shove her into the dress he’d already gotten for her, probably some gorgeous green or blue confection. Maybe yellow, he liked her in yellow. He’d changed his plans, made a one-eighty for her. So she’d feel pretty. And special. She did, oh, god, she did. She wasn’t even wearing the dress yet and she felt like a kinky Cinderella.

She had Ada help her with the gauntlets, lacing them up her wrists, but Jasper would want to dress her himself, she was sure of it. So she told Ada she’d finish getting dressed herself, and she could go home. Ada petted her shoulder on the way out and Keyne sat squirming, stewing, waiting.

When he showed up, she was leaning back in the chair, trying to meditate, trying not to think about how the blood in her pelvis and her breasts was pulsing more heavily than anywhere else, how she wanted to be strung up naked and used, make him feel as good as he’d made her. That’s when she heard his footfalls. She tried to subdue the corner of her mouth, but no matter how much she tried to tame it for him, it always gave her away. It tugged up in response to his nearness and when his hand clamped around her throat, he pressed the offending corner with his thumb.

“If we didn’t have to go so soon, I’d have you on your knees with your mouth around my cock.”

The muscles in her abdomen forced out a tiny bit of air through her nose and her eyes tried to shut even though they were already closed. Then the hand was gone from her throat and he was circling her wrists with his long fingers.

“Open your eyes, Keyne.”

She blinked and there he was, squatting beside her in a tux and his face so hard, his brows pushed ever so slightly together. Why so serious?

His thumbs scraped over the inside of her leather-clad wrists and his jaw tightened. “You haven’t let me take these off since you got here. I’m not going to make you tell me why because that’s your own business, but I have to ask: it’s not because you’ve been cutting yourself, is it?”

Oh, Jasper.“No, Master. I promise. I wouldn’t, I swear.”

He squeezed her wrists, harder than would’ve felt good if she’d been someone else, and nodded. “Time to get you dressed.”

He helped her up from the chair and stripped away her towel, guiding her naked into the dressing room.

“You’re getting stuffed for this, you know that, right?”

“Yes, Master,” she breathed as he bent her over the stool, although she hadn’t. Hoped, maybe, but hadn’t known. She grabbed the bottom rung that forced her up onto tip-toes and closed her eyes when he instructed in a bored tone, “Spread your legs.”

She did, making her flexed calves work harder. He didn’t comment as he stroked the small of her back that she’d kept bare for him, but she had, faithfully. Nor did he comment on how wet she was, though he must’ve been able to see it. Instead, he pushed something against the entrance to her pussy. She’d bet silicone and ridged in some way and though it wasn’t particularly large, she breathed deeply and focused on being open for him as he inserted the dildo. There was more coming.

A final push and thesnickof the cap of a bottle of lube confirmed, and soon he was pressing a finger into her ass. “Had anything up your ass lately, Tinker Bell?”

She shook her head though he wouldn’t be able to see it. “No, Master.”

He didn’t ask her why not or if she’d had anything in her pussy. She’d gotten kissed and groped at frat parties but nothing had ever gotten serious. And if he thought she was going to let any idiot shove something up her—

“Relax. I just want to know how much you can take.”

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