There was also a part of me that knew that I could take what was happening to me and use it as research. As kinky as things were in the mansion; safe, sane sex was practiced and the rules were followed with strictest discipline—I was actually in a safe environment to experiment sexually. Ironically enough I couldn’t be in better hands as far as being taken care of and kept from any manner of danger.
“Say I will be your good girl and then put your legs back—do it!”
I commanded her harshly once again, when I noted her resistance.
My fingers trembled as I spread myself open and began to beg for mercy. “Please don’t hurt me, I’ll be good; please. I’m sore from last night.”
He lowered his head between my legs and began lapping as I ran my fingers through his raven hair. I had no idea that under normal conditions Master Richard Baron would have corrected a slave for touching him without his permission.
Over and over, he brought me right to the edge of orgasm and stopped.
My whines had now become cries of agony for release. I knew from research that I had done that Masters and Doms use orgasm denial as a form of gaining control. It is unlike any other experience and unless you have experienced it, you don’t understand how a person can be brought to the point of begging. Once that you have experienced being brought to the edge over and over, you understand the concept of it—and why it is such a powerful tool in the hands of the Dom or Master.
Listening to her beg me—like I knew that she had never begged any other man, made me feel like attacking her and consuming every single bit of her; body and soul.
But when I saw the tears streaming down her face; I gave her what she cried for and I licked, lapped, and sucked, until she was a quivering mass of submission.
I slid over her and huskily whispered in her ear, “Pin those legs back. You better keep them pinned back, or you’re getting that sweet little ass of yours whipped black and blue.
I watched her eyes roll back in her head as I pushed into her. She immediately began begging me.
“Please, please, don’t hurt me; it feels like your tearing me open.”
I leaned down and tenderly took her breast in my mouth suctioning and flicking my tongue over it and the fluid in her between her legs began flowing.
“Oh, you make me feel so good; I’ve never, I’ve never; ahhhhhhh, ahhhhh, soooooooo fucking good.” She was crying out to me.
“Cum for me baby,” I commanded as I plunged in and out of her. Her contorted face told me all that I needed to know.
Man, she was so tight, like a vice gripped velvet glove—and she was mine…
Chapter Three
Ophelia
I sat on my bed with my laptop trying to write an article for the magazine that had hired me.
How in the hell was I supposed to write an article on, ‘The training of a slave;’ when I was the ‘slave’ that was being trained?
Not the same way that these women were being trained; to be sold off to some Master. Was this even legal—I mean seriously?
Maybe that was the reason for the whole cloak and dagger mystery. Hell, I didn’t even know Richard’s surname. And the worst thing of all was that I was suffering from ‘writer’s block,’ an affliction that I never suffered with.
I was one of the rare Author’s that never suffered from the dreaded plague of being ‘blocked up;’ with no flow of words. Richard was not inspiring me, he was hindering me and that wasn’t going to work for me. I would most certainly be letting him know about it too. If he thought that he was going to intrude on my creativity, screw him and his job, he was probably ‘bluffing’ anyway.
Nobody was that powerful—were they?
Master Richard Baron
Richard leaned back in his chair and let his mind drift back to the night before. The look on her face as she cried out begging him for mercy; was priceless.
He felt a stirring in his loins immediately. This girl brought out something in him that he had not experienced in a long time.
He wanted her, in the worst sort of way; the kind of way that would not take no for an answer.
He thought back to the first day that he seen her. Her long, tall, and full busted figure filled out the suit that she wore. Her long layered blonde hair had a wild, but yet classy look to it. She had addressed that room full of men with no fear and by the time the meeting was over, she had them eating out of the palm of her hand.
She was everything that intrigued him, a strong and in control woman. She was beautiful, smart, independent, but more than anything—she was a challenge. She was a challenge and by the time that he was done with her, she would submit to no other man but him. Or so Richard thought…