Page 55 of Make Me Scream

“It hurts, but… it’s kinda nice.”

“You know as well as anyone that good art can be painful for the artist. I’ve seen you tap into your past forThe Ohio Zoo. But when you’re really feeling something, your audience will too.”

“Yes, sir.”

I unfurl her leash and give it a tug.

“Walk.”

She takes a few tentative steps, cringing as the plug jostles in time with her movement. I fall into step behind her to get a better view. Fluid coats her inner thighs; she leaves drops in her path as she goes. I watch for a few rotations, then step in her way.

“Hold this,” I say, slipping the leash between her teeth. She bites down, inhaling its leather scent.

I head over to my stool and begin drawing.

My goal for the sketch isn’t to portray her gorgeous figure or her enticing submissiveness. This work has an audience of one. I want Gwen to see herself through my eyes: a fearless student eager for all the wrong lessons. What she’ll do with my depiction is up to her, but I hope it will inspire her. I hope it’ll give her confidence to be her authentic self in her art, even if she has to hide behind another identity.

I draw as fast as I can, not wanting to tax her too much at one time. After I finish, I tell her to stand up so she can give her knees and elbows a rest. She bites her lip when she sees the drawing.

“Getting used to the tail?” I ask, giving it a soft pull. She squeaks and whines until I let go.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Maybe later we’ll experiment with a larger plug. The thought of driving my cock into that tight, little hole…

“I could use a drink before we continue. Are you thirsty, pet?”

“Uh… yes, sir.”

“Put your hands up, like paws.”

I show her how I mean; she lifts her arms and lets her hands hang limp.

“Stick out your tongue.”

Her cheeks glow scarlet, but she obeys.

“Okay. Lead the way.”

Groaning, she starts walking. I can’t take my eyes off her ass, mesmerized by the tail waving back and forth.

While Gwen watches, I pour myself a glass of water from a filter jug. I drink it down, letting her wonder why I haven’t gotten her a glass as well. She gets her answer when I take out not a glass, but a bowl. I fill it, then motion for her to return to the studio.

Whatever she may be thinking, she says nothing. Not one complaint.

Back in the studio, she doesn’t need to be told to get back down on all fours. When I set the bowl on the floor, she already understands.

I draw her lapping up the water like an animal. Whether she realizes she’s doing it or not, she wags her tail. My cock twitches, begging to be thrust into her. I try to ignore it, focusing on drawing, but the whole scene is just too unbearably sexy for me to wait any longer.

The second I finish the sketch, I unzip my pants and unbutton my shirt. Gwen looks up at me, a smile spreading across her face.

“Let me be clear, pet. I’m not doing this now because you’ve earned a reward. I’m not trying to teach you any sort of lesson. You’re just way too fucking hot, and I can’t help myself.”

I reach between her legs and find her core utterly sopping. Degrading her, humiliating her — it’s only made her wetter. There’s no reason to think using her will be any different.

Sitting on the floor, I bid her to crawl forward.

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