Page 10 of Married to My Master

“On the bed,” he said, the his tone almost conversational.

She went and climbed onto the bed, her eyes big and wide and afraid as she lay back on it.

He took the leash end he'd been holding and wrapped it around the post, tying a simple knot. It wouldn't keep her from going anywhere. That's what the duct tape was for. He grabbed it, pulled off a long strip, tore it with his teeth, and set the roll on the nightstand.

“Hands,” he said. “Up, up, up, over your head.”

She bit her lower lip, but complied.

He wrapped the duct tape around her wrists, binding them tightly. “Don't struggle,” he said. “You won't like to see what happens when you struggle.”

She nodded, closing her eyes.

Maybe she was trying to pretend this wasn't happening, he mused. That this was all a dream. It didn't matter what she thought it was, though, or whether she believed it was real. It was, on all counts. He unbuckled his belt and undid the hooks on his slacks.

She opened her eyes and glanced to where his hands were unzipping his slacks. She went to say something, but stopped.

“What?” he asked. “You can speak.”

“Are . . . are you going to rape me?”

“No,” he said flatly, as he fished inside his slacks and briefs, pulling out his hard cock.

She gasped when she saw him exposed like that, but he just ignored her.

He crawled on top of her, his cock poking first into the tangled golden curls of her pubic mound, then into the soft skin of her belly. He looked down into her frightened eyes, her pupils dilating as they stared back into his. He reached down between them and began to stroke his thick length.

“You're nothing,” he repeated, his words devoid of emotion as he lay on top of her, stroking himself. “Nothing. Do you know that?”

She didn't answer him, but he didn't care. He was somehow enjoying himself. He didn't know why, either. This wasn't the kind of thing that really floated his boat.

“Please,” Emily started to say, “please, don't—”

He slapped his free hand over mouth, muffling her words, as he continued to stroke himself to completion. He was already close, and his hips were moving as he pumped into his hand.

“You're nothing,” he repeated, his eyes still locked with hers.

She moaned against his hand as he sped up, as his balls tightened against his shaft.

He thrust harder into his hand, moaning as he used her body as some sexual pedestal.

She was liking this, he realized, as he felt her lips and the tip of her tongue brush against the palm of his hand, just like a light kiss.

He threw his head back a little, grunting low in his chest as he emptied his seed onto her belly, a brief bout of pleasure filling his mind and body. He groaned as he continued to cum on her, covering her.

As he came, she moaned again, louder this time. Her eyes stayed tightly closed, her head gently shaking as if she couldn't admit to herself that she was enjoying her punishment.

He removed his hand and climbed off of her, fighting to remind himself that he wasn't supposed to enjoy her punishment, either.

This wasn't about sexual gratification for him. At least, it wasn't supposed to be. This was about getting revenge, plain and simple, for what BioSphere did to Benton. He tucked his still-dripping, half-hard cock back in his pants and grabbed the duct tape off the nightstand.

She looked up at him, her eyes like saucers, as he stripped more tape from the roll. He put some over her mouth, to a soft, whimpering protest, then grabbed her ankles and wrapped them tight with her own tape.

“This is about you understanding and experiencing the horror of what my brother went through,” he said, as he wrapped her ankles. “Nothing more.”

But, as he looked out on her dying garden in the backyard before he closed the curtains, he knew it wasn't just about that. This had somehow turned into something else entirely.

He frowned and left the room, thinking about how new life could grow from even dead, broken ground.

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