Page 16 of Valentine's Slave

“Stay,” I command. Standing up, I walk over to the couch and take a seat on the L curve, patting the leather footrest beside me.

“Crawl to me, my dirty little slave,” I say.

I lick my lips, watching her. She’s wet with her own juices, that perfect satisfaction in her eyes. But now, the suspicion and annoyance come flaring back into her gaze, and she glares at me as if she would rather die. She doesn’t realize that she’s an open book, that she’s showing me everything I want to know.

I keep my eyes on her and don’t repeat myself.

And then, she begins to move. Slowly, averting her eyes from mine, breasts bobbing, hips swaying, black thong still on, she begins to crawl across the floor, going painfully slowly since her wrists are still cuffed together. She’s all mine. She can hardly move, and yet there she is, following my commands inch by inch. Oh, what fun I’ll have with her.

“Look at me,” I command.

With something like hate in her eyes, she lifts her gaze to mine, her little pink lips set like daggers.

Finally, she’s right in front of me, pushing her shoulders back, chest forwards. Even on her knees, she’s still strong and proud. That just means I’ll enjoy it that much more, breaking her.

“Get on all fours across my lap.”

Even though her eyes are all fire, her tongue darts out over her lower lip, and I know she doesn’t mean to. She’s turned on because she’s naked and handcuffed, and I’m dressed in a full suit, giving her orders and orgasms in tandem.

She obeys, and now she’s placed herself over me, looking straight forward at the wall.

I lay my eyes on her delicious ass that’s still all filled up. I palm it with my right hand while my left goes under all her softness and curves until I get between her breasts, rubbing them slowly.

“When we talked over the contract, you were afraid I would hurt you,” I say. “I’m going to teach you that the only time I’ll hurt you is when you’re screaming for it, when every cell in your body needs the pain so it can drown in the pleasure.”

A little shiver runs down her spine, and whether it’s fear or anticipation, I can’t tell, but her face doesn’t change, and she remains staring at the wall in front of her, her expression set and hard. She probably hates the fact that I can get her worked up so easily.

She’s going to hate me a lot more before this week is done.

I press my hand into her glorious curves and then spank her hard and fast.

“This is both your punishment and reward for being such a good little slave,” I murmur, squeezing her breasts in my hands, twisting her nipples as she stifles a whimper. “You can hold back your voice, but you can’t hold back the pleasure,” I say. “You have to take it, just like I want you to.”

I rub her ass before spanking her. She jolts against me, and as I caress her, I tap the plug. Her sweaty back arches, and I spank her again and again until she can’t hold back the moan lurking in her throat, until her back starts to sag and her legs begin to shake.

“You like how it feels, don’t you?” I murmur. “The pain spilling into the pleasure. It’s desecrated, just as life is, and yet it’s beautiful. That’s what you have to learn. Even from the pain comes beauty.”

Her legs quake as I fondle her ass before punishing it again. Now she’s gasping against me, her knees caving as she collapses against me, her arousal staining my dress pants, as she heaves for breath.

My cock strains against my pants, every cell in my body alert and alive. This is when I feel it the most, this depth, this life. And it hasn’t been this good in years. I was right to go for the extreme and purchase this dead-sexy woman. She’s even better than I was expecting her to be.

I rub her shoulders, curling a stray lock of her blond hair behind her ear until her breathing calms and she stops shaking.

“I’m going to take the plug out of your ass now,” I inform her. “The angle will be better if you go back to all fours.”

She glances back at me as she obeys, and there’s something like light in her eyes, which are wet and bright. The sex seems to have woken up something inside her, too, reluctant as she is to admit it. She’s going to love being my sex deviant. She already does.

I take the handle of the Snowman and wiggle it slowly.

“Relax and breathe out,” I tell her, and she moans as the biggest ball comes out, followed quickly by the other two.

There’s no fecal matter on the Snowman, though I wouldn’t be surprised if there was, as it had sat five inches into her anal cavity. It’s slick and still smells like the coconut oil I’d smeared onto it before inserting.

I wrap it in a paper towel and leave it on the coffee table.

“Good girl,” I praise. “Would you like to take a shower, get dressed, have dessert?”

She creases her eyebrows. “You had dessert waiting, and you didn’t tell me?”

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