Owned(19)

I place my hands on my thighs and drop my head. “Such a good girl.” He runs his thumb under my jaw. I grind my teeth. I despise that fucking patronizing tone. Kayne silently exits the room. Once I hear the door click, I collapse onto the comforter an exhausted, misused mess.

And weep.



SUNLIGHT FLOODS THE ROOM. I squint as my eyes adjust to the brightness. This time of the morning, when it’s quiet and I’m alone, I pretend my prison is a fairy-tale dream. The room is beautiful, open, and airy. The furniture modern but still feminine and the large white rug blanketing the hardwood floor brings a sense of warmth. A princess residing in her castle in the sky. Then I move and my fairy-tale dream turns into a nightmarish reality. I remember I’m trapped, like Rapunzel, chained to the bed. My energy is drained, my limbs hurt, and I feel empty.

And everything that happened last night is going to happen all over again. And again, and again.

I am owned. A pleasure kitten to be touched and prodded and fucked as my owner sees fit. He demonstrated his ownership last night when he chained my collar to my ankles and had his demonic way with me, bent over and helpless. I wish I could get up on my own accord and move around the room. But I’m at the mercy of others, always at the mercy of others in this house. I have a ridiculous fear that one day Jett won’t show up and I’ll be trapped on this bed forever. My fears are put to rest when the door clicks and Jett appears with breakfast.

“I could have been Kayne,” he reminds me. I didn’t shoot to my knees when the door opened.

“My legs hurt.” And I don’t care to obey at the moment.

“That doesn’t matter. If he wants you kneeling when he walks into the room, you kneel. Don’t cross him. He doesn’t like to hurt you.”

“Could have fooled me,” I say bitterly, rubbing my ass. I still have red marks from when he whipped me.

“Cranky this morning. Last night wasn’t satisfying?”

Physically yes. Mentally, no.

This whole situation is utterly fucked-up. No one deserves to live like this. At the mercy of others. Beaten if they don’t obey. Treated like an object, a pet, a ... slave. I used the word. It’s sickening. I can’t believe it’s become my life.

“I hate him sometimes,” I confess, as Jett removes my collar.

“That’s fine, just tell me, not him. Release your aggression when you fuck. It’s one of the few outlets you have.”

I sigh. Sure, sex is a great stress reducer and anxiety reliever. And sex with Kayne can have your blood pressure skyrocketing one minute, and taking a nosedive the next. That’s how physically demanding he is. But emotionally? It means nothing. It’s empty. I’m empty. When I used to fantasize about Kayne Roberts, his mischievous personality and charismatic smile were always center stage. He was nothing like the tyrant who keeps me captive. Whenever he came into Expo, his demeanor was always professional, but every now and again I would catch a twinkle in his eye or a roguish smirk. I always suspected under that tailored suit was a man with a secret life—someone extreme who liked BASE jumping or race car driving. Never did I surmise his private life entailed an upscale prostitution ring and client list. Or kidnapping and sexual slavery in the first degree.

“Take a shower. Then we’re going to do some yoga,” Jett says.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly. Kayne complained you’re not limber enough.”

“What? Does he tell you what we do in here?” I flush crimson.

“Not graphic details, but I know some things. It’s not much different than when we talk.”

I think I’m going to die. “It’s completely different!”

“How so?” Jett questions.

“It just is!” I spring off the bed and retreat to the bathroom. It’s one thing for me to talk about Kayne with Jett, it’s a whole other thing for Kayne and Jett to talk about me! Images of my panties around my thighs, my collar chained to my ankles, and a gloating Kayne makes me turn beet red. I can feel the heat actually scorching my skin. I wish there was a door to the bathroom, I’d lock myself in.

I take a quick shower, eat some breakfast, and then am further tortured with downward dog and flying crane. I would never admit this out loud, but I secretly enjoy spending the day with Jett, even if I am naked and mortified half the time. He’s funny, easy to be around, and always tries to cheer me up. On some jacked-up level I see him as a friend.

I take another shower—because really what else do I have to do? A nice long hot one that helps ease the tension in my muscles. As I wash my hair I wonder ruefully what compromising position Kayne will put me in tonight. I half dread it, half crave it. Two nights together and my body is already calling out to his.

I dry off, pull my damp hair up into a bun, and walk into my room fully expecting to find clothes laid out for me. Alright, really just a new pair of underwear. But Jett just hooks my collar back on and leads me to the bed.

“Hang out, sweet thing,” he says as the padlock clicks.

“Like I have anywhere else to go,” I answer snidely, pulling at the chain.

Jett just snickers at me and taps me on the nose. “See you in the morning.”

Then he takes his leave, and I am once again a puppy left waiting to be played with. Night has fallen and moonlight is shining brightly through the large wagon wheel window. My owner is late.

When I hear the door click, I pop onto my knees. Kayne’s footsteps command the room. “How’s my kitten?” He makes quick work of unlocking my leash from the bed.

“A downward dog expert,” I reply flatly.

Kayne pauses. “Excuse me?”

“Jett made me to do yoga today.”

Kayne’s lip twitches. “Did he?”

“Yes, Kayne.”

“Good girl.” He rubs me under my jaw. He unhooks the chain from the front loop and re-clasps it to the one on the back of my collar. Red flags fly up.

“Go kneel on the floor. Make sure you face the TV.” I scramble off the bed and into the middle of the room. I fall to my knees, look down, and rest my hands on my thighs. I’m breathing heavily, and he hasn’t even touched me yet. I hear him shed his clothes then click on the television. The familiar sounds of sex fill the room. Only one thing plays on that flat screen—porn.

“Fours, Ellie.” I feel him yank on the chain. I lean forward on my hands and knees as Kayne straddles me, the leash pulled so tight in his hand that the collar is forcing me to look up. On the television, two people are heavily engaged in intercourse. A man and a woman going at it on a white leather couch. The camera is at the perfect angle displaying every thrust of the man’s large cock into the woman’s bare pink pussy. My heartbeat quickens and my core throbs the longer I’m subjected to the erotic display. I’ve never watched porn before and its effects are startling.

“I hear you breathing, kitten. Like what you see?” Kayne asks lewdly.

I stay silent. I don’t want to answer. I don’t want to say yes. I don’t even know if yes is the right answer. All I know is my body is responding indecently to the visual stimulation.

“Kitten?” Kayne yanks my chain, provoking a response.

“Yes, Kayne.” I can barely expel the words.

“Good, kitten,” he replies smugly.

I don’t know how long we watch, but it’s well into the night. Couple after couple partaking in explicit, untamed sex. Kayne just stands over me, holding my leash as my arousal winds tighter and tighter around me.

I’m close to begging when he finally moves, kneeling behind me. I rock lightly, as he massages my backside with a taut grip on my leash. He runs his finger from the top of my ass along my slit and tickles my clit. I’m so over-stimulated, his touch feels like pins and needles. I pant like the pet I am.

“Need me, baby?” He inserts one finger into me and my body electrifies.

“Yes, Kayne.” I don’t even recognize my own voice.

“Let’s see how much.” He withdraws, then rolls my clit between his fingers; I nearly convulse. He quickly pulls away.

“Not yet, kitten, not even close.” I don’t know what he’s talking about, but the tone of his voice sends an ominous shiver down my spine.

Kayne grabs my hip with one hand, clamping down as hard as he can. With the other he keeps a tight grip on my leash, the collar straining against my neck.

“Don’t take your eyes off that screen.” He pumps the head of his cock against my entrance but never fully penetrates me. I’m dying, I need him so bad it feels like I’m going to tear in two. He just rocks lightly, slipping only a quarter of his erection inside me. I try to move my hips to gain more of him, but he holds me steady with his hand and the firm grip he has on my leash, pulling harder every time I move, the collar constricting me.

“Kayne, please.” His shallow pumps do nothing but crank my arousal with no offer of relief in sight.

“When I say you’re ready.” He withdraws completely, just as the woman on the screen climaxes, the man pounding into her relentlessly as he extracts every drop of her desire. I’m about ready to combust.

Then Kayne slams into me without any warning. “Oh!” I cry out, as the collar stops me from jutting forward. The tip of his cock hitting me exactly where I need, in the deepest, most tender part of my body. He thrusts again and again, sending me soaring.