Page 12 of Cruel Master

A little over an hour later, as the clock on the wall ticked past six p.m., and I’d come a total of three times watching her torment, I decided that she had suffered enough for the time being. I set the papers down and got up, leaving my office to return to the bedroom I had set up to be her prison. Whether my Angel realized it or not, I'd been planning her capture for quite some time and I was going to enjoy every little piece of it.

I unlocked the door and strode back into the room just as her lips parted and she moaned through another forced orgasm. Shutting the door at my back and flipping the lock, I watched and waited for her body to stop shuddering before I turned off the wand and really took in the sight of her.

Her gasps filled the air between us. Her chest was flushed a bright pink and her face was soaked in sweat and tears, streaks cascading down to her trembling chin. My cock jerked in my pants. Her makeup was ruined, smudged around her wide eyes, and dripping in lines down her face.

Tilting my head to the side, I took another step into the room. Her adorable shyness was gone now, the exhaustion of her body obvious in the way she didn’t even attempt to close her legs. I could see even from here how red her pretty little clit was. The poor abused thing. She fought against touching the wand, whimpering as she tried keeping her legs spread and her spine as far pressed back into the back of the chair as possible.

“G-Gaven,” she begged. “Please.”

With a frown, I pressed the button again, eliciting yet another scream from her. It didn’t take long for her to realize what she’d done wrong.

“Master!” The word erupted from her lips. “Please!” I pressed the button and stopped the vibrations between her legs with a cold smile. She collapsed against her chair.

“See, love,” I said as I approached. “I knew you could be trained.”

Her head tipped back and her eyes cut towards me with a vicious glare. Something that was also new about her. Before, Angel had been such a modest and cautious creature. Her face always turned away if I ever looked at her directly. That innocent, virginal part of her was as attractive as anything I’d ever had before. This rebellious look, however, wasn’t bad either.

“You’re a bastard,” she accused, the curse a hiss despite the fact that I held the key to her release.

I chuckled as I pocketed the remote and leaned over her, tipping her chin up with a finger beneath it. I didn’t mind the curses she threw my way. After all, I had her now. I was the one in charge. If all she could do was curse at me, then I’d let her, even as I took everything else from her very fucking soul.

The tear tracks that had dried to her pretty cheeks fused her lashes together. Despite having heard her moans and cries for myself, seeing the way her body had reacted to each orgasm on the camera feed, I still couldn’t imagine how many times she’d come within the last hour. Her poor little pussy had to be sore and swollen. I grinned. This was only the beginning.

“That I am,” I agreed readily as I released her face and reached down to untie first one arm and then the other. She reached up as if to push me away, but her arm flopped uselessly into her lap as if even that was too much effort for her. I carefully finished untying her and then lifted her limp body from the chair.

"What the fuck were you thinking this would accomplish?" she demanded, her tone hard even as her body relaxed against my chest. Well, perhaps relaxed wasn't quite right. It was more as if her body couldn't seem to do anything else but lose all tension. Forcing someone to come repeatedly seemed like such a sweet release, when in fact, it was a wicked, cruel torture. No doubt, every inch of her precious skin felt like a livewire had been infused with her very body.

"Catching up on lost time," I said as I strode to the bed across the room. The second I laid her down, however, she tried to roll away, shrinking away from my touch with a scowl.

"We're not married," she snapped. "Not anymore."

"Unless either of us has signed divorce papers—and I certainly don't recall signing—then we are, in fact, married," I informed her as I grabbed her wrist and brought it up to the cuff attached to one post of the bed.

When she realized what I was doing, Angel yanked against my grip. "Stop this!"

With little effort, I ignored her demand and dragged her struggling arm up, snapped a cuff around one wrist, and then circled the bed and performed the same action on her other. "This is rape!" She fought against the bindings I'd placed her in, turning her wrists this way and that, wriggling her perfect little body across the sheets as she tried and failed to free herself.

I took a quiet step back and admired her form. Then I reached down and smoothed my fingers up the inside of her thighs, collecting a fair amount of the cum that was drenching her flesh onto my fingertips and bringing it to my mouth. The second she felt my touch, she clamped them shut. It was too late, though. I smiled as I sucked her taste off of my digits.

I climbed onto the bed. Angel gasped and scrambled back until her spine hit the headboard. The small incision on her arm that the doctor had made caught my attention. It was slight, barely noticeable, and she hadn’t said anything about it yet. Now that her mind wasn’t fogged over with the drugged smoke or the pleasure coursing through her clit—she looked down at it. Her brow puckered with confusion.

Would she know what it meant? I debated on allowing her to realize what I’d done. Something wicked in me, though, wanted her to think she was safe. So before she could contemplate the small wound further, I made my move.

Pressing the full weight of my body over her, I pinned her squirming form to the bed and let her feel the hardness of my cock between us. Her nostrils flared with anticipation as I directed her attention back to me. Gripping her legs, I forced them apart and leaned down as she trembled in my grasp.

The smell of her invaded my senses. I pushed my fingers back over her swollen pussy. She stiffened, her body going cold even as I gathered the evidence of her arousal onto my hand. Slowly, I brought my fingers up to my face and separated them, showing the clear fluid that told me the truth.

Her cheeks tinted pink. Her lips popped open and then her eyes widened as I brought my fingers back to my lips once more, parted them, and sucked them inside. The taste of her on my tongue really was everything I recalled. Sweet. Heady. Delicate.

I finished sucking my wife's juice from my fingers and then withdrew a handkerchief from my suit pocket, wiping the remains from my hand. "There are things we didn't get a chance to explore when we were together, my darling," I began. "I was hoping to gently guide you into the lifestyle I live, but it's clear that you don't care for gentleness." She likes my punishments.

"Gaven..." Her lips trembled as I shot her a dark look.

"One," I stated, cutting her off, "is that you will refer to me as your Master from now on. You may call me 'Sir' in mixed company—but not to worry, I won't be allowing you out of this room for some time. Not until you can prove your good behavior to me."

“This is ridiculous,” she snapped.

"Only good wives are given the privilege of calling their husbands by their name, Angel," I said honestly. "And you havenotbeen a good wife."

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