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He would just need to keep vigilant, for both their sakes.
Eyes still closed, he reached reflexively for his temporary slave girl. His hand met only empty sheets. Opening his eyes, he sat up and looked around. Ellen was on her knees on the rug beside the bed, her cuffed wrists resting on her thighs. He liked the way her upper arms hugged her breasts, creating an alluring cleavage.
The knife cuts from yesterday were healing quickly. He’d been very careful to keep them superficial, especially on her breasts. She had a faint red circle around each areola. The cuts on her thighs had been a bit deeper and showed evidence of scabbing. In spite of himself, he felt a swell of pride at her bravery the day before.
As their eyes met, she smiled. She had adorable dimples, one in each cheek. How had he not noticed that before?
“Good morning, Sir.”
“What’re you doing down there?” he asked, smiling back.
“Today is your day, Sir,” she replied.
He squinted in confusion. “My day?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied, lifting her chin with determination. “Every day so far, the focus has been on me. Don’t get me wrong. It’s been amazing. I’ve never felt so challenged or so thoroughly, wonderfully dominated. That’s why I would like permission today to be your service sub—to pleasure you, to pamper you, to serve you in every possible way.”
Damon sat and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I think that could be arranged.” He cocked a brow. “Though no guarantees how long I’ll last before I bring out the whips and chains.”
She flashed another dimpled grin. “Works for me, Sir.”
Slipping from the bed, he crouched in front of her. “Cuffs,” he said, per what had become their morning routine.
She lifted her wrists and he unclipped and removed the cuffs. Getting to his feet, he set them on the nightstand. “Let’s go, service sub,” he said, tapping her shoulder as he passed on the way to the bathroom.
After they brushed their teeth, he said, “Kneel by the toilet, hands cupped over the bowl.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said in a calm voice, her face serene.
How different from her reaction on their first day together. Was she only better at covering her reluctance, or had she truly come to a place of acceptance? Either way, he felt the usual rush of power as he towered over her, cock in hand.
It took a few seconds for him to piss, given the semi-erect state of his cock. When the stream hit her cupped hands he noticed the slight tension in her shoulders, but she was otherwise still and obedient.
When he was done, he leaned over her and flushed the toilet. “Have you peed yet this morning?”
“No, Sir,” she replied.
“Good.” He tapped her shoulder again. “You’re going to do it in the bathtub while I watch.”
“May I wash my hands first, Sir?”
He almost said no, just because he could. But he thought better of it, given what he had in mind for her.
“Yes. Make it quick.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
He bit back a smile as he watched her pump enough liquid soap to wash an elephant. Once she was done, she dried her hands on a towel and stepped into the tub.
“Face me,” he directed. “Stand with your legs apart. You will spread your cunt lips with your fingers so I have a good view when you pee for me.”
Even after all they’d done and all he’d seen this week, her cheeks still reddened as she assumed the position. She stood there blinking for several long moments before the urine finally streamed down between her legs.
When the last droplets had splashed down, she started to drop her hands.
“I didn’t tell you to move, slave,” he snapped. “Stay as you are until otherwise directed.”
Still blushing, she obeyed.
