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Hesitantly, she lowered herself to the ground and crawled toward the spreading pool of mud.
“Go on,” he urged. “Get right in it. Lie down flat, arms above your head in the muck.”
Taking in a deep breath, Callie forced herself to obey. The mud was cool, a not unpleasant contrast to the warm sun beating down on her back. She positioned herself carefully, turning her head to the side as she rested her cheek in the muck.
“What a pig,” Damon said derisively from above her. “A dirty little pig slut wallowing in the mud. Lift up your ass, pig slut. Show me that curly tail. Bend your knees and spread your legs but keep your face in the mud.”
Callie dutifully shifted so she was balanced on her knees, her bottom in the air, legs lewdly spread. As she positioned herself, she focused on keeping her mind blank.
“Now, reach back and spread your ass cheeks. Show me that cute little asshole.”
This was harder to do. She had to turn her head so she could use her forehead for balance. A strand of muddy hair fell in her face as she reached back to further expose herself.
She remained in that position for several silent seconds, waiting with rising trepidation for whatever came next. A startlingly cold stream of water suddenly spurted against her asshole, making her fall out of position as she flopped against the ground, splattering herself with more mud in the process.
“Back in position,” Damon barked, still spraying her with the hose.
Spitting out dirt and blinking furiously, Callie managed to obey. Fortunately, the spray stopped, leaving her dripping wet, ass in the air.
A moment later, Damon knelt behind her and gripped her by the hips, pulling her back toward him. She heard him spit and knew that was all the lubrication she was going to get. Hopefully she wouldn’t bleed when he took her ass.
Then she felt the hard nudge of his cock at her pussy. She blew out a grateful breath of relief. No anal, at least. She almost wanted to thank her tormentor for that small reprieve. But she knew better than to speak without permission or direction.
He pushed into her, grunting as he penetrated. As he fucked her, his movements jerked her back and forth in the mud, which now coated her face and the front of her body.
Then his hand reached around between her legs. His skillful fingers found and stroked her clit until it hardened, despite her discomfort. He dipped his hand in the mud and brought it again between her legs. He rubbed her clit faster as he rutted against her, his grunts quickening as he thrust deep inside her.
“Filthy, dirty little slut pig,” he panted. “Come for me, cunt. Come… now…”
He slammed against her with a cry, his fingers still flying over her sex.
Callie focused on that small bit of pleasure amidst the fear and humiliation that was her steady companion. As he ejaculated inside her, Callie’s body shuddered in climax.
Damon collapsed heavily against her, forcing her back down into the mud. She lay trapped beneath him, heart thudding as the mud oozed around her.
He had won.
The last bit of spark had been snuffed out. There was no more outrage. No more thought of escape. She was just tired. So, so tired.
Closing her eyes, she let all thought tumble from her mind. She was blank and empty, and light as a feather. She rose high, high into the sky until the last vestige of her spirit vanished above the clouds without a trace…Chapter 16“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Be a good girl while I’m out.”
Like she has a choice, Damon thought with a grin.
But she was a good girl now. He was convinced of it.
That twenty-four hours spent in the punishment closet the week before had been the sea change. Something had broken in her that day. There was no more fire in her eyes. She understood now that there was no way out. She had accepted her lot. She was his slave, to do with as he pleased.
Yet, while it was intensely exciting and entertaining to play with Callie in whatever way amused him, lately he found he was getting a bit of cabin fever. Flirting with girls on the beach wasn’t enough. A visit to Dark Club would be just the thing.
He had toyed briefly with the idea of taking Callie with him. It would be such a rush to show those players a thing or two. Forget safe, sane and consensual, or even risk-aware consensual kink—Damon Carlisle owned a real slave.
In the end, his cooler head prevailed. It would be too much of a risk. Though she was behaving well at home now, the distracting element of being in public might be too confusing for her. No question, the thrill of showing off his slave’s abject and total submission would be exciting. But in the end, he decided it wasn’t worth the risk.
