Page 10 of Lily

“Louder, girl. Is your cunt wet?”

She hated him more than Master J at that moment—more than anything else that had happened to her so far.

He leaned forward so his face was inches from hers. “Is my little slave’s cunt wet from playing with her nipples?”

“Yes, Sir.” She hated herself, too. She hated how he could manipulate her body and force it to do things against her will. She hated how many men had done so in the past months. She wished she had more self-control, but she apparently did not. Maybe she was a slut. They all certainly told her so often enough.

Her Master pointed toward the corner of the room. “See that cane? Get it for me.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Roselia hurried across the room. She could hardly convince her hand to pick up the cane, knowing he was probably going to use it on her. Master J had not struck her ever. Things were going to change now.

When she returned, she handed him the cane.

“Pull out a chair, lean over it, plant your hands on the seat. I want your bottom high, feet wide, heels planted. I’m only going to give you one stripe with the cane this morning. I will not go easy on you. It will be hard, painful, and leave a red welt across your bottom. It will hurt all day, reminding you to do better tomorrow. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” She braced herself. He’d said he would only strike her once. Surely, she could endure one strike.

“When I discipline you, you will participate in your punishment so that I’m clear you understand why I’m punishing you. Why have you required me to cane your bottom this morning, Lily?”

She shuddered at his choice of words and rushed to answer him. “Because I was late, I took too long getting ready, I ran through the house, and I cussed.”

“Good. Ask me to cane your naughty bottom.”

A sob escaped, and her entire body shook.

“I’m waiting, Lily. Would you rather I strike you twice? I can have you turn around and land the second strike across your tits.”

She gasped. “Please cane my naughty bottom, Sir.”

“Good. Feet flat. Don’t move.”

A second later, she heard the whistle of the cane a moment before it struck her. Excruciating pain radiated through her butt cheeks, down her legs, and up her back. She’d never felt anything so painful in her life.

She thought she might pass out from the pain. Was she bleeding? Surely, he’d broken the skin.

“Take a moment to pull yourself together, girl. I’ll be in my study. I expect breakfast in the dining room in thirty minutes.”

She sniffled as quietly as possible as he left the room. It took her several more seconds before she was able to push herself to stand, and she did so, wincing. She didn’t dare turn around to look at her bottom. It throbbed, but she decided it wasn’t bleeding. It didn’t feel wet.

Trying to catch her breath, she shuffled toward the binder on the counter. She had thirty minutes to fix breakfast. She certainly knew how to cook, but she had no idea where anything was in this kitchen yet, and she was going to be distracted the entire time by her swollen, tingly nipples and the welt pulsing on her ass cheeks.

As if reminding her she was not human, the collar weighed heavily against her neck, making her aware of her pulse point after the adrenaline rush.

She’d thought she’d lived in hell with Master J. This new Master might prove to be even more ruthless and demanding. He obviously intended to add physical punishment to her torment.

The only thing baffling her was that he still hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t even put that ointment on her himself. He’d made her do it. Was he fucking with her psychologically? Or did he not intend to touch her?

She wouldn’t allow herself to hope that would be the case. When she least expected it, he would undoubtedly spring it on her, demanding that she open his pants and suck his cock before fucking her virgin hole in some demeaning position that would destroy her.

Don’t think about his penis. Focus on breakfast.

Chapter Four

Four months ago…

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