Page 44 of Valentine's Slave

Meanwhile, I shimmy out of my shirt and pants, leaving only my black briefs.

I take the leather dog collar from the wicker backet and come back to Ava’s slender yet curvy form. She's trying to stay still, but she's almost swaying, her plump ass pressing against the thin lace of her thong, her breasts pushed up and tight by that black bondage bra with all its criss-crossing straps and wires that zig-zag across her skin down to her midriff. But it doesn’t cover herabdomen, I realize, and I’m proud of her. She’s showing off her body, and now I’m going to worship it.

I slip the collar around her neck, fastening it tight enough that it doesn’t move but she can still breathe without difficulty. I hear a little sound in her throat when she realizes what I’m doing.

“You’ve never been collared, have you?” I ask, nibbling on her ear again. She sucks in a breath as my tongue darts inside.

“No.”

I slap her ass, hard.

“No,Master,” she corrects herself, rolling her eyes.

She realizes too late what she just did, and I smirk. With my hand on the back of her neck, I push her forward, bending her over. Winding up, I spank her hard and fast five times.

She’s gasping by the time I pull her upright. I put my finger to her pussy, brushing along her lips while she whimpers.

My finger comes back wet.

“That was your punishment for eye-rolling,” I tell her. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

I take a second to admire the collar, which adorns her like a black-and-silver necklace. “Now, crawl to the cross.”

She turns around to face me and the rest of the room, her eyes fixed on the St. Andrew’s Cross. Her breath comes faster, and she drops to her hands and knees. I smirk as I watch her pink ass swing from side to side as she crawls gingerly across the floor, pausing in front of the cross.

“That’s my girl,” I say, fastening the leash onto her collar and wrapping it a few times around the middle of the cross until its taut, pulling Ava’s head into an upward position, looking up at the cross.

“Just like that,” I murmur, my cock already hard enough to fuck her all night. I take the Snowman from the wicker basket, along with some coconut oil, and come back, running my hands over her, massaging her muscles, trailing my fingers down herback to the curve of her magnificent ass, teasing between her cheeks until she moans and shakes her hips for me.

Reaching under her front, I finger her breasts, rubbing and rolling her nipples, and she whimpers, rocking back and forth on her hands and knees. I know her pussy is already soaked, but I don’t give it any direct attention just yet. I only skate one finger past her lips, and she moans, trying to press into my hand. I give her thigh a smack and then, as she moans, I press the oiled head of The Snowman to the entrance of her ass.

The first ball goes in easily, and Ava whimpers again, her chest heaving up and down with her breath. The second ball follows in quick succession, and she gasps. I spend a few minutes spread between teasing her breasts and spanking her ass, and then I put my hand between her legs, kneading her pussy, rubbing her clit, and then sinking two fingers deep inside her as I push the third ball into her ass.

Ava screams, a shudder going through her body as she bucks and arches against me, her head still pulled upwards, her hair falling back. I give the hilt of The Snowman a tap, and she whimpers again as I run my hand through her hair, catching clumps of her blond locks in my fist.

Stripping off my boxers now, I rub my cock against her, along the outside of her ass, teasing between her lips and against her clit. She’s rubbing and grinding against me now, her core beginning to tremble, but I won’t let her come. Slapping her ass again, I get to my feet.

“Stand up, my dirty little whore,” I say, and she gets shakily to her feet, facing me, her back to the cross. I take her left hand, holding it up above her head and to the left, fastening on the top left part of the X. There’s a cuff for her wrist, and there’s also a little bar right above it, so she can hold on to it and sustain her own weight, if she's able. I fasten her right hand in as well, so she’s all strapped to it, legs still free, standing on the platform.

“Grip both the bars," I instruct her. "How does that feel?”

Ava just shrugs. She seems to think that’s all it has to offer.

I move behind her and pull the lever at the back of the cross. “How about now?”

Ava gasps as the cuffs yank upwards, pulling her arms tight back against the X and pulling her upwards until she’s hanging several inches off the ground.

Her heart is thrashing now—I can tell by the way she’s gasping for breath as her breasts bop up and down in her lingerie, and I pause for a few seconds to admire my work. Ava clings to the little bars, holding her own weight, which is exactly what I wanted her to do. She’s strong.

“It’s . . . strange,” she says, panting.

I come around in front of her, reaching behind her to cup one of her ass cheeks in my hand, tapping on the hilt of the Snowman. Her eyes only make it to my shoulder, and as she shudders, I have an idea.

“You’re athletic, Ava,” I say. “Show me if you can lift your legs up to your chest and then back down.”

After preparing herself for a second, Ava lifts her legs, her powerful thighs flexing. She breathes a little harder, a tiny moan escaping her lips as she brings her knees all the way to her heaving breasts and then lowers them.

I note the exact detail I was looking for. Ava has yet again exceeded expectations.

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