Page 30 of His Keepsake

I squirmed, pressing my legs together. The tingling burn in my ass was already making my pussy feel hot and liquid. Embarrassed, I looked up at him and bit my lip. I didn’t want him to leave, I wanted…

I just wanted.

“Now lie on your back and show me your pussy.”

A few seconds ticked by. With my fondness for bratting and being forced, I’d stuck out my tongue at two Doms just to tempt them to being rougher and maybe venturing past safe, sane, and consensual. One had walked out, calling me ‘not truly a submissive’.

Here, now, the threat of the basement was enough to make me cooperate, in addition to my fear of Mr. Scott.

With some difficulty because of the low ceiling of my cage, I complied. Lying on my back, I spread my legs toward him.

“Scoot down this way. Come closer.”

I braced my feet against the bars and did what I could to move nearer.

“Closer.”

Blushing hotly, I tucked my legs against my chest and pressed my nether regions to the bars, my pussy and ass as close as I could get, and my knees almost around my ears.

A slick finger circled my clit, around and around, then bumping over the stiff nub.

Oh no…

“Good girl. I’ll be back soon.”

He flipped down the bed skirt leaving me alone with my thoughts in near darkness. My body buzzed with the effects of whatever he’d used on me. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to focus on the lingering ache in my ass, but it only seemed to make me more aware of the greasy substance and how he’d made me feel. He’d treated me like a toy, and now he’d put me away in his toy box.

I lay on my side, staring into the gloom. The carpeting had a mild new carpet smell. At least it didn’t smell like fear and need, but I had a feeling it would by the time Mr. Scott came back.

Should I try to escape? There were bars above my head, too, between me and the box spring. I poked around, but everything was sturdy.

Be honest, Emme—if he’d left the cage door open, would you leave?

No. Probably not.

And the Darwin Award for dumb-ass behavior goes to Emme.

Passably warm for the first time since yesterday, I tried to settle to sleep, but the needy burning from Mr. Scott’s concoction made me curl up in a ball and whimper.

Ages passed.

By the time I heard footsteps on the stairs, I didn’t care what Mr. Scott had in mind. I was willing to beg for anything he was willing to give me.

The shadow of a pair of shoes stopped at the foot of the bed, and I realized how noisy my whining had become. I clamped my lips together, shaking with need, hoping he didn’t decide I needed a beating rather than an orgasm.

The edge of the bed skirt flipped upward.

I found myself looking into the face of a new stranger with hard, dark eyes, and a sexy mouth.

“Well, well. Hello Kitten.”

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